


if the end of the world gets me close to you (well baby I'm finished)

by bonbennett



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blood Drinking, Canon-Typical Violence, Clothed Sex, Coming Untouched, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dream Sharing, Ensemble Cast, F/M, Multi, Oral Sex, POV Multiple, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sharing Clothes, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Telepathy, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:22:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 206,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24159586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonbennett/pseuds/bonbennett
Summary: “Even the gods grow greater when they love.” - Edith WhartonThis is going to be a complete rework of the show from when the Other Side was destroyed, and onwards.Fair Warning: The endgame pairing for this fic is Bonnie/Damon/Enzo.ADDITIONAL NOTE: As things stand, I don't currently have plans to return to this fic and will be marking it as 'Complete' for the time being. Thank you all so much for the support!
Relationships: Bonnie Bennett/Damon Salvatore, Bonnie Bennett/Damon Salvatore/Lorenzo "Enzo" St John (Endgame), Bonnie Bennett/Jeremy Gilbert, Bonnie Bennett/Lorenzo "Enzo" St. John, Damon Salvatore/Lorenzo "Enzo" St. John, Elena Gilbert/Damon Salvatore
Comments: 210
Kudos: 236





	1. in a dream you saw a way to survive and you were full of joy

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter bears many similarities to what actually transpires on the show, but I've made some notable tweaks that set the scene for the rest of the story.
> 
> Comments are of course welcome! Find me on tumblr at [@bonbennett!](http://bonbennett.tumblr.com/)

**bonnie -**

Nothing was going to plan, and Bonnie thought that was understating things. 

The Travelers kidnapping Stefan and Elena to drain them of their blood for nefarious spell-casting purposes was maybe not as surprising as it should have been, in hindsight, but it was maybe still less surprising that one of those said Travelers turning around and letting Stefan and Elena go. But of course neither Stefan or Elena knew where exactly they’d been freed _from_ , nothing but open fields and a single road around to keep them company. They hadn’t been left with their phones, instead collect-calling Damon to let him know that they were alive and mostly well.

Damon had acted out the whole tableau for Bonnie with his usual level of dramatics and panache, arms waving in the air as he paced back and forth in front of the hulking fireplace at the Boarding House. He had a bloody shoulder courtesy of Enzo throwing a stake at him - Bonnie had to wonder why they were just lying around, in a house full of vampires - and it was hard to focus on listening as he only got louder and louder as his retelling of the story carried on. Luckily for Bonnie, she had plenty of practice tuning out Damon when he was in one of his moods; she’d been staring at the wall behind his head for five minutes, now. She barely managed to concentrate in time to hear Damon complaining about Enzo and his quote-unquote “fucking annoying attitude”.

Bringing her attention back to the situation at hand, Bonnie found Damon looking at her with his eyebrows raised nearly into his hairline, waiting for a response as he rubbed at the newly healed skin of his shoulder through the hole in his shirt. Bonnie looked up at the ceiling and sighed. 

“He says you promised to bring him back.”

Having to act as an Anchor to the Other Side was bad enough but acting as a mouthpiece for pissed off supernatural beings was decidedly worse, especially when the living and the dead kept trying to talk over each other without realizing. Her ears were ringing. Though she wasn’t facing Enzo she could feel his presence behind her, like a touch against her back. Over the last few days she’d found herself looking around rooms at random, somehow knowing that Enzo had appeared before he ever said anything. It was almost possible to _hear_ the glare Enzo must be wearing as he said, “Ah, you’re paraphrasing. Damon told me, quote, ‘I will find a way’.”

Damon was still rolling his eyes at the reminder of his promise to Enzo, like he hadn’t expected his inconvenient lies to ever catch up with him, which was just typical. Bonnie shifted so that she was standing at an angle and could see them both better, without having to turn like her head was on a swivel whenever either of them opened their mouth. She almost had to shout to be heard. “Damon might have _said_ that-” 

“Hello, still here?” The man in question threw his arms up in the air like he was hailing a cab, eyes narrowed at Bonnie in annoyance. As far as Bonnie was concerned Damon never should have told Enzo he could get him back into the real world if he never had any intention of following through. Then again as Bonnie understood it there was a fair amount of fire and near-death happening at the time. It had probably seemed easier to lie. “I _know_ what I said.” 

Enzo only spoke louder over Damon and Bonnie had to shift to keep her eyes on him again because he had started to pace, his own frustration and annoyance a match for Damon’s. “Remind him that he doesn’t have a very good track record for keeping promises!” 

“Please, stop talking!” She’d just about _pay_ the two of them to be quiet right now. Bonnie didn’t think she’d experienced pure, unadulterated silence in months. Just as she would finally focus on completing a task or _relaxing_ , a dead supernatural would appear in front of her. It was a wonder that she was passing any of her classes.

It was infuriating that she was the only one that could see the dead people. Watching Caroline or Elena’s faces pinch in confusion when Bonnie suddenly keeled over in agony as someone passed through her had gotten old sometime around day two. Damon reminding her now, however unintentionally, that _he_ couldn’t see Enzo only drove home the fact that Bonnie’s life had become even more strange and unnatural than usual. Enzo moved closer to her as he continued to yell and Bonnie expected to feel warmth coming off of him where she wasn’t going to find any.

“In case you’ve forgotten, the Other Side is on the brink of collapse! I plan on pestering all of you until I’m safely returned to the land of the living!”

Wasn’t that just charming. Bonnie already felt like she was only just barely keeping it together, she didn’t need Enzo following her around expecting her to find a magic - ha! - solution to a problem that couldn’t be fixed. Instead of telling Damon what Enzo had practically shouted in her ear, Bonnie let her shoulders slump. “Damon, you need to do something about this before I lose my mind,” not even caring that the desperation she was feeling had bled into her voice.

Indignation filled Damon’s expression. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay! I’ve got two missing doppelgangers, I’ve got a Traveler who wants to rid our town of magic, which is bad for us by the way!” He was bouncing on his feet, agitation radiating from him. “And I’ve got the friendly neighborhood banker Mr. Sykes in the _coat closet_ , so helping Enzo escape from the netherworld is gonna have to wait til tomorrow!” 

Almost as soon as he’d closed his mouth Damon darted forward and nudged Bonnie slightly to the right with a hand on her shoulder, just as a near-empty bottle of probably-bourbon went flying past her to shatter in the fireplace. The flames doubled in size, putrid smelling, before dying back down with a dull roar. It was a testament to how exhausted Bonnie felt that she didn’t even flinch as she informed Damon, “I _think_ he wants to be penciled in for today.”

They stared at each other for a minute, maybe. Neither of them wanted the responsibility of babysitting Enzo, but with the way he was acting it was obvious that one of them was going to have to do it. Damon removed his hand from Bonnie’s shoulder so that he could throw both hands into the air again; Bonnie had never realized before just how often Damon did that.

“Then _you_ bring him back!” 

"What?” The desperation of before had left Bonnie’s voice, leaving behind a certain kind of flat emotionlessness. 

“Liv is cooking up a spell to bring you back from the Other Side before it goes kaboom! So whatever you’re doing, just include Enzo in it.” Damon grinned at her and did some jazz hands, all _problem solved_! If only it was that fucking easy.

It was hard to look at Damon, then. There was no big spell to get out of this and there never had been. Just like Damon had lied to Enzo, Bonnie had lied to Caroline. It hadn’t seemed like there was another option at the time; Caroline had only just gotten Bonnie back and what kind of monster would Bonnie be if she’d told Caroline that she was going to be dying again, only this time it was shaping up to be permanent? It was easier to deflect and give Caroline hope where there was none. It was Bonnie’s own fault for not realizing that Caroline would have shared the news and now here it was, biting her in the ass. 

“You hear me, Enzo? Hitch a ride with her!” Damon spun in a circle as he threw his thumb over his shoulder in Bonnie’s direction, his eyes looking around the room but never accurately settling on where Enzo was glowering at him. “Okay? See, there! Delegating. I feel better.”

Damon might feel better, but Bonnie felt a little like she was going to throw up. “I’m sure we can think of something else, Damon -”

The front door creaked open and just like that Damon’s attention shifted away from her. Bonnie sighed and turned to see who’d walked in to find Jeremy standing silhouetted in the doorway. She smiled at the sight of him, but he was looking at Damon.

“You called?” Jeremy’s voice was as deep and steady as ever and Bonnie remembered that they hadn’t really spoken the last few days, which wasn’t by accident. Bonnie was avoiding him so she didn’t have to let him down a second or third time by telling him she would be sacrificing herself for the ever looming _greater good_. It was no wonder that he was just annoyed enough to not look at her right now.

Damon brushed past her. “Yeah, I need you and your XBox buddy to run an errand for me.” Damon pointed out the door and strode out, long legs carrying him away from Bonnie and their Enzo problem. 

Jeremy rolled his eyes but obediently followed Damon as he walked out of the house, the door closing heavily behind them and leaving Bonnie in relative silence, save for the crackling of the fire behind her. Bonnie might have been deliberately ignoring Jeremy but it still hurt that he hadn’t looked at her once. It might’ve sucked even more that _that_ wasn’t shaping up to be the worst part of her day.

Bonnie let herself briefly entertain the idea of trying to ignore Enzo, but the bloody hole in Damon’s shoulder told her that might not work so well. She shouldn’t have been surprised that Damon had leapt at the first opportunity to leave and saddle her with _his_ problems, because it wasn’t the first or even the tenth time he’d done so since they’d known each other. Enzo didn’t make her wait long before he was right behind her again, roughly poking at her shoulder like it’d spur her into action. 

“Well? What are you waiting for? Ring up your little witchy friend, and get her over here.”

Bonnie didn’t turn to look at him and she didn’t say anything, either. With Enzo’s behaviour over the last few days she didn’t think telling him just how successful calling Liv for help _wouldn’t_ be was her best bet - he might be dead but he could touch her, could hurt her. The smarting spot on her shoulder was proof of that. It was better to just play along and hope that things didn’t get any worse.

\--

Maybe Enzo was lying about raining doom and despair down on them until they brought him back, because when Bonnie left the Boarding House and made for Whitmore, Enzo didn’t shadow her. Bonnie hadn’t yet figured out if there was a science to the ghosts trapped in the Other Side; it could just be that he’d expended too much energy showing up to yell at Damon and now he had to recharge.

What she finds waiting for her at her Whitmore isn’t necessarily any better than a dead vampire desperate to rejoin the land of the living: Caroline was pacing back and forth across the floor of their dorm room, full to bursting with new information about the Traveler who’s been inhabiting Tyler for the last… well, they were still a bit unclear on when exactly the Traveler had hitched a ride.

“So, Julian is trapped inside of Tyler forever. Or, until he - dies.” Caroline doesn’t sound certain, which doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. As is always the case when talking to Caroline, it’s easier not to interrupt so Bonnie stays silent. “So I was thinking: what if he _does_ die? Maybe that’s how we do it! Maybe that’s how we get him out!” 

Bonnie had been sorting through her books and she pauses to turn and stare at Caroline, whose face was bright and full of newfound hope. Bonnie couldn’t quite keep the skepticism out of her voice when she asked Caroline if she wanted to _kill Tyler_. 

“Not like, permanently! He’ll go to the Other Side and when Liv does the spell to help you and Enzo, Tyler can come back too!” 

Oh. For the second time that morning, Bonnie felt her heart seize in her chest. She shifted a hand to move her hair out of her face, hoping that Caroline wouldn’t pick up on her nervousness, and moved some books around in the box she’d placed on her bed. Silence was never the best defence with Caroline, who got up off of her own bed to stand beside Bonnie.

“Shouldn’t you be like, preparing? Or talking to Liv, or doing anything other than packing up our dorm room?”

It was getting harder and harder to keep her voice steady but Bonnie tried her hardest because she knew that if she didn’t project a strong front she’d be crying in Caroline’s lap in no time at all, of no use to anyone. “We have to be out of here after finals, which I might skip due to the potential extinction of magic in the place where I was planning on spending my summer break.” 

Bonnie directed a closed-mouth smile at Caroline, feeling a little cruel for bringing up the period of time she spent pretending that she was alive and well when she was on the Other Side, watching them live their lives. Watching them hold a funeral for her and mourn her. Bonnie didn’t even like to think about it, let alone talk about it. Caroline shot her a wounded look.

“Right. But I think the Other Side falling apart is a little more pressing than late housing fees -”

Bonnie shoved the box roughly on her bed so that it was teetering right on the edge, just like her. Everything was just so _frustrating_. She knew Caroline was trying to be helpful - trying to save everyone as usual - but it wasn’t going to happen and Bonnie knew that. She hated that she knew that. Suddenly keeping all of that to herself seemed like more trouble than the alternative, so she forced herself to turn and look Caroline square in the face. Concerned blue eyes met Bonnie’s own. Bonnie knew that she had to say the words but they didn’t want to come out, but she forced them past her lips all the same.

“Caroline… there is no spell,” Bonnie watched as Caroline’s face went blank before it fell as she moved closer, her urge to comfort instinctual even as the hope she was clinging so desperately to got sucked out of the room. It was hard to control her flinch as Caroline’s arm settled across her shoulders. Her time as the Anchor had made Bonnie increasingly adverse to touch, even when it was coming from the people she loved; hands would reach out towards her and Bonnie would flinch away. “I made it up. The Other Side is collapsing and everyone in it, including me, is going away for good.” 

Caroline’s mouth opened and closed soundlessly as she looked around the room. Bonnie could see that a sheen of tears covered Caroline’s eyes now and she hated that she’d caused that. Bonnie took a deep breath and shifted out from underneath Caroline’s arm as she picked up the box, heavy with books, and moved to stand. “So no, I don’t think you should kill Tyler.” 

It was cowardice to turn and leave Caroline standing unmoored in the middle of the room, but Bonnie needed to get away as much as she could - to get away from the situation that she saw no way out of, and to get away from herself. She felt cut open, too many sharp edges for others to hurt themselves on in their effort to fix things that couldn’t be fixed. The clock ticking down on her life was getting louder and louder, increasingly hard to ignore.

Bonnie had to stifle a hysterical laugh when she’d almost reached the relative safety of her car and Enzo appeared beside her, the air around him almost crackling with his anger. “When were you planning on telling me? Or were you just hoping the Darkness would come and take me before the awful truth could come out?” 

Bonnie had wondered if Enzo could watch her without her seeing him, and now she had her answer. She would have been happy to stay facing her car and just hope that Enzo would disappear again but somehow, she didn’t see that happening. Bonnie had to be a big girl about this. She turned, the box of books held tightly in her hands like it could protect her, as she struggled to find something to say that wouldn’t go over horribly. Enzo didn’t give her much of a chance to respond before he was yelling in rage, ghost-hand reaching out to slap the box out of her hand and onto the pavement. The books she had neatly stacked went everywhere, the sound drawing the eyes of some other students milling around. Bonnie smiled at them awkwardly before directing her attention towards the seething vampire in front of her.

She couldn’t even find it in herself to inflect any emotion into her voice. “Don’t you get it? There’s no solution.”

"There’s always a solution, Bonnie.” His voice was full of emotion, his dark eyes wide with a combination of desperation and fear. “Your boyfriend came back from the dead, Markos came back from the dead, _you_ came back from the dead!”

“The Travelers used doppelganger blood in that spell to bring Markos back, which means they basically destroyed the magic that was holding the Other Side together. It’s _unraveling_. And there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it. It’s over, Enzo.” Not to mention that bringing Jeremy back to life had killed her last time.

Enzo gave no indication that he had heard her. He wasn’t looking at her, eyes distant as his nostrils flared with his non-breath. If Bonnie wasn’t so occupied with explaining why she couldn’t save him, why she couldn’t save _herself_ , she might’ve wondered about ghosts and their insistence that they keep breathing even in death. It was weird enough the vampires did it but at least they were _sort of_ alive. Enzo didn’t have that excuse. Shaking that train of thought from her head, Bonnie tried to smile at Enzo in a way that no doubt looked more like a pained grimace.

“You’re not coming back. Accept it.”

That seemed to light a new fire underneath Enzo, his eyes finding hers as he spoke with renewed conviction. “I will accept it when that Darkness comes and yanks me into oblivion! I will accept it when I no longer _exist_. I spent over fifty years in a cell. Poked, prodded, tortured,” Bonnie looked down at her feet, stomach rolling at the mention of the experiments the Augustine Society had done on Enzo and Damon both. “By all rights, there was no hope of me ever getting out but I hoped for it all the same. So I will accept it when it’s _done_ , Bonnie.”

She admired the fight in him; wishes she felt any fight of her own left for herself. The bleakness of their situation had burnt all of the fight out of her already. If they didn’t get ripped away by the Darkness, the Other Side was still collapsing around their ears. Eventually it was going to tear itself apart and somehow Bonnie doubted that would feel _good_. 

There wasn’t anything she could say to Enzo. If he wanted to fight, good for him. She was done. Bending down to shove her books back into the box, Bonnie watched as a pair of unfamiliar feet stepped into her field of vision. Looking up, Bonnie saw a face that took a moment for her to place - Julian’s Traveler wife. 

“I know you…” Julian’s wife smiled as Bonnie stood back up to face her head on. “You tried to kill Jeremy in the caves.” 

Enzo shifted behind her, no doubt confused by her talking to this woman who he couldn’t see - not yet anyway. She had to touch Bonnie before she would transition through to the Other Side and start milling about with all of the other dead supernatural there. Enzo spoke slowly. “What’s going on?” 

Bonnie didn’t blink. “A Traveler just died.” 

The woman was pretty, caramel skin and bouncy curls. As was always the case, it wasn’t obvious what had killed her. Injuries never came with the people who found Bonnie. That was a mercy among all of the horror; having to interact with and touch the bloodied corpses of people she had maybe seen in passing would have made everything even worse. 

The Traveler was moving closer to her, hands outstretched. “Please tell my husband I tried.” 

When the Traveler was close enough that they were almost touching Bonnie found herself moving backwards, her feet carrying her away from the Traveler without conscious thought. She bumped into Enzo, his body stopping her from moving any further. With Bonnie pinned in place the Traveler’s hands came up to grip Bonnie’s biceps and Bonnie gritted her teeth against the pain; a death who’s cause she couldn’t immediately place.

The pain seemed to spread across her whole body before it became sharply concentrated in her head. A big fall, or maybe a car accident. It was excruciating, and Bonnie cried out in agony as the Traveler passed through her. No one else in the parking lot was close enough to pay attention and when she looked around, woozy with pain, Bonnie saw that Enzo had disappeared again. How convenient.

\--

Bonnie should have known it could get worse. They hadn’t been able to stop Markos and the Travelers had begun the spell to rid the world of anything that they deemed unnatural - werewolves, vampires, _witches_. Try as she might, all Bonnie could manage was a feeling of vague numbness like she was completely desensitized to what was happening around her. They’d brought her back from the dead, as much as being the Anchor to the Other Side qualified as being _alive_ , and now she was going to die again. 

The spell had been cast at the centre of Mystic Falls and was moving steadily outwards, taking out any supernatural creature in its wake. When the first vampire had appeared in their dorm room, she jumped about a foot in the air and moved to press her back against the wall farthest away from him. Caroline looked at her like she was insane for a moment before she caught on, standing completely still as she watched Bonnie bend over with the pain of the vampire passing through her and into the Other Side. His death hadn’t been as painful as the Traveler’s but it still left Bonnie panting with exertion.

Feeling helpless wasn’t something that Caroline Forbes really enjoyed, nor was watching her friends suffer. So, naturally, she tried to comfort Bonnie by reaching out to pull her into a hug. Where Caroline had missed Bonnie’s flinch earlier, she didn’t miss it this time. Bonnie was saved from having to explain herself to Caroline; Bonnie could see three newly dead supernatural people over Caroline’s shoulder, waiting to force their deaths on Bonnie on their way to another significantly more permanent death on the Other Side.

She lost count very quickly of how many had passed through her. The pain never lessened; each death was as excruciating as the last. Bonnie never would have thought that so many people died annually from a snapped neck, but the tension headache building at the base of her skull told her otherwise. She felt like she was constantly gasping for breath. Mercifully Caroline had decided to give Bonnie her space and was packing both of their things while Bonnie sat shakily upon her bed, staring unseeingly at the wall. 

In typical Caroline fashion she was keeping up a running commentary as she shoved their clothes and books into boxes. “Mr Jones… Who would have guessed that he was a vampire? He was _so_ lowkey about it! He lived on Old Miller Road, so the spell has already moved past Mystic Falls. That can’t mean anything good, can it?” 

Bonnie knew that Caroline didn’t expect an answer to any of her questions, but her eyes widened as her brain started working in overdrive. Standing up, Bonnie moved towards Caroline and grabbed her forearms, her excitement at maybe having a solution to this mess making her feel alive for the first time since a sports team worth of dead people had used her as a bridge to a place that was nothing like heaven.

“Caroline, I think I know how to get us all back from the Other Side,” Caroline’s eyes widened in disbelief to match Bonnie’s own, her arms going slack in Bonnie’s hands. “I need to find Enzo.”

\--

It had been such a simple plan: send Enzo to find the Traveler who had passed through Bonnie and beg them to teach Liv the spell that would bring them all back. Bonnie hadn’t had any illusions about it being a foolproof plan, but she’d at least thought that they might have been in with a shot. When Bonnie saw Enzo outside of her dorm room as she was carrying her things down to her car the downward tilt of his mouth told her that something had gone wrong; the Traveler had said no, or the Other Side had ripped her away just like it seemed to be doing to everyone else. Still, Bonnie had to make herself ask.

“What happened, Enzo?”

He shook his head and confirmed her worst fears. “We hit a little snag.”

Bonnie felt her shoulders slumping, the box of her worldly possessions that had felt so meagre moments before suddenly weighing down on her. Enzo moved forward almost as if to help her, but stopped himself at the last moment, like he remembered that they were supposed to be at odds. Him, desperate to get back to the world of the living, and her, unable to do that for him. Useless. 

“A snag? What does that mean? She was the only one who knew the spell who was even remotely willing to help -”

“The Great Beyond happened. And it’s going to _keep_ happening, so we need to find a way to get out of here and fast -”

Someone was standing behind Enzo. Someone who hadn’t been there just a second before - no. Bonnie couldn’t believe it, _wouldn’t_ believe it. Because as the figure moved forward into the light, she saw that it was Stefan. And if he hadn’t been there the whole time - should have been outside, waiting for her with Caroline - that could only mean… 

“Stefan?” 

Enzo looked behind himself, trying to see what Bonnie could and failing. “What?” 

The fact that Enzo couldn’t see him standing there only confirmed it: Stefan was dead. He was waiting to pass through her, Stefan was _dead_. How did he die? How could things have gone so wrong so fucking quickly? Bonnie felt like the walls were going to start crumbling around her at any moment.

Bonnie walked past Enzo, their shoulders brushing and making her skin break out in goosebumps. Stefan said her name as she walked closer and she wanted to cry, wanted to scream. This wasn’t supposed to happen, none of this was supposed to happen. The Traveler was supposed to help them save everyone. They were supposed to _live_.

“This can’t be happening.” She grit her teeth against the sob that wanted to rip out of her throat and saw Stefan’s face become both anguished and desperate.

His voice was thick with emotion. “Please tell me that you figured out a way to bring us all back?”

Bonnie’s guilt at her inability to fix _anything_ made it difficult to maintain eye contact. She didn’t want to see the hope leave him as it was replaced with the realization that his death was permanent. “I had a way, but I lost it.” Stefan closed his eyes tightly as he sucked in a tight breath. He looked angry and Bonnie understood. “I’m _sorry_.”

The wet warmth of her tears shocked her cheeks. Without saying another word, Stefan moved forward to grip her arms just like the Traveler had done earlier that day. The pain of his death was worse than the Travelers had been and more focused; it was a death she’d become uncomfortably familiar with experiencing secondhand. Someone had ripped Stefan’s heart right out of his chest, ending his life instantly. Alive and then _not_ , between one breath and the next.

Bonnie cried out in pain and felt Enzo’s hand fall between her shoulder blades, a small comfort as an errant sob ripped through her. Her head ached with the repressed need to let her tears fall hard and fast like they wanted to but she didn’t have the time, couldn’t waste even a moment feeling sorry for herself right now. Still, she leant back against Enzo’s hand gratefully. He was a single-minded ass when it came to getting what he wanted, but he still knew how to be considerate. It was only a small comfort considering that it didn’t change the facts of the matter:

They were doomed.

\--

Stefan’s death had arguably been the worst thing to happen so far, but Bonnie should have known that Damon’s reaction to the news wasn’t going to be anything short of apocalyptic. The sound of wood splintering as he kicked at chairs and glass raining onto the ground and he smashed vases with the steel poker from the little fireplace was deafening in her otherwise silent dorm room.

“Damon, stop!” Bonnie stood in the middle of the room which was acting as an epicentre to the hurricane Damon had become, everything that wasn’t nailed to the floor flying past her at speed as Damon raged. Whether she liked Damon or not it was breaking her heart to see him like this. He always felt things so strongly and the grief he was feeling at losing his brother was no different; his bright blue eyes shone with tears that he had so far refused to let fall.

More swinging of the poker; more breaking furniture. If they made it out of this alive by some miracle, the college was going to sue. Damon’s voice echoed as he yelled. “You said you had a _plan_ , Bonnie!”

“I did, I had a Traveler who knew the right spell!” Bonnie had explained this to him already but Damon kept circling back. Despair worked in funny ways.

“And you lost her!” Damon stopped his war on the room to turn on Bonnie. Vampires might not need to breathe to survive but Damon was panting, shoulders rising and falling rapidly beneath his leather jacket. He looked half crazed and Bonnie felt her own emotions swirling like they wanted to match his.

“I didn’t _lose_ her, she was sucked into oblivion like everyone else on the Other Side!”

“Then find another one!”

Bonnie threw her hands up in the air in annoyance and fear and despair. Didn’t he get it? If it was that easy they wouldn’t have any issue to begin with! “It’s more than just _knowing_ the spell, Damon. Markos was only able to come back because dozens of Travelers were willing to _sacrifice themselves_ in order to overwhelm me. I doubt they’d be willing to do that for a bunch of supernatural strangers!”

Even as she said the words she could tell that a plan was forming in Damon’s mind, and that she probably wasn’t going to like it. He advanced towards her, poker raised so it was level with her head. “I think we’re having a motivation issue. Are you motivated, Bonnie?” He was about to poke her in the neck with the poker before she flinched back. “Because if the Other Side goes away everyone we know there, _including you_ , goes away with it.”

Bonnie looked up at him, defiant. “I _know_ that, Damon! Do you think I want to die?” 

That was the crux of it, really. Of every situation that they’ve ever gotten themselves into or found themselves in. Not knowing at any point how Damon was going to feel or react to something. He was volatile and unpredictable; a constant wildcard. The only guarantee at any given time was that if something or someone threatened who Damon held dear, there would be some sort of hell to pay. Right now, ‘hell to pay’ was being heavily implied by the pointy end of the poker resting against her collarbone. 

Bonnie had found herself wondering more than once in the course of Damon and Elena’s relationship - when they were _properly_ together, not by virtue of some sire bond or fighting about how bad they were for each other despite wanting to be a couple more than anything - what it was about Damon that Elena found so addictive. Bonnie didn’t need to ponder for too long about the reasons why Elena found Damon _attractive_ because while Bonnie might not be fond of the guy most of the time she also had _eyes_ and there was no denying that the guy is as good looking as he is unpredictable. Bonnie had a pretty solid idea of who she’d pick if she was asked to choose between the Salvatore Brothers, she was still surprised about which side of the fence Elena had landed on. 

It was something of a surprise when eternally moral Elena continued to choose Damon even after he continued to do terrible things. Eventually Bonnie’s curiosity had gotten the better of her and she’d asked Elena why she stayed with Damon when he could be so… _Damon_. Elena hadn’t answered straight away, like she really needed to think about her answer first. When she had, she’d told Bonnie: _He loves so passionately that I never question whether he cares about me or what he feels for me. I love the certainty of being with him… I love_ how _he loves me, Bonnie_. 

It was as close as Elena had ever come to telling Bonnie that she was okay with the lengths Damon was willing to go to, to protect what he thought of as his. While they were all under threat right now, Stefan was even more so. Damon would do anything to get him back and Bonnie knew that.

Damon’s voice was ruined when he continued, pulling Bonnie out of her thoughts even as he demonstrated that his thoughts were in the exact same place. “My _brother_ is over there!”

“I know that!” The depth of feeling in her voice - all the helpless fear she felt at their situation - must have finally gotten through to him, because his eyes wavered from hers as the poker fell from his grip to the floor with a noisy clatter. He moved closer and Bonnie felt like she was stuck in his orbit, unable to move away even as she could feel the manic energy radiating off of him like a physical thing. Damon continued to speak, his voice taking on a pleading edge.

"So is Alaric… so is your Grams.”

They both had a lot at stake. As always, the mention of her Grams and the anguish she must be feeling on the Other Side as it tore itself slowly apart had an effect on Bonnie, making tears well up in her eyes as her throat fought to close with suppressed emotion. She had been on emotional tenterhooks for what felt like days now and it’s only a matter of time before it all comes bubbling out. Now _really_ wasn’t the time, with Damon still mostly seething in front of her. Bonnie didn’t have any faith in him being sympathetic. “I know that, Damon.”

Damon drifted closer still and Bonnie couldn’t take her eyes off of him, the air almost crackling with the intensity of the moment. It was becoming readily apparent to Bonnie that she and Damon hadn’t really ever spent any length of time alone with each other when a throat cleared from over Damon’s shoulder; Enzo was there just in time to chip in his three cents worth. “You know who else is at the top of the Search & Rescue list?”

Bonnie sucked in a shaky breath but didn’t move back from Damon; she shouldn’t feel like Enzo had caught them in the middle of something because they weren’t doing anything wrong. She figured that Enzo knew that too. It was just as likely that he was giving her an easy out of the conversation with Damon. “Enzo’s here.”

Damon turned and looked behind himself, a habit he hadn’t been able to shake ever since Enzo had first died and started tormenting them. Damon’s anger returned as if it had never disappeared and he swung his eyes wildly about the back of the room, showing no indication of knowing that Enzo was leaning casually up against the wall next to the fireplace. “Well, if it isn’t Mr Butterfingers himself! How did it feel to have your only hope of coming back _literally_ slip through your fingers?”

Enzo rolled his eyes, his usual British drawl stretching itself out even more in condescension, “Hello to you, too, Grumpypants.” Warm brown eyes landed on Bonnie, effectively pinning her in place. “Tell him to play nice, I have a plan.” 

Bonnie’s eyebrows shot up into her hairline. Past experience - _recent_ past experience - had taught her that they never got lucky enough to have a plan that would actually _work_. “You’re serious? You’ve found another Traveler willing to do the spell?”

Damon looked even more frantically around the room now. “Well then get on it!”

“I’m already on it, mate. I just need someone to do this ‘coming back from the dead’ spell… am I right in assuming that you lot have a witch waiting in the wings?” 

Turning to look down at her, Damon raised his eyebrows in askance. Bonnie wished that she could do the spell herself but as the Anchor she’d never felt more devoid of her magic and her connection to nature. But they still had Liv, even if Bonnie had some serious doubts about her willingness to help them out of the kindness of her own heart. It was definitely worth a try and Bonnie shrugged. “More or less…”

Bonnie got out her phone and texted Elena and Caroline. _Find Liv and Luke. Need them for spell to save everyone_. It would no doubt send them both into a panicked flurry but Bonnie didn’t have time to word things delicately. _None_ of them had time. It was literally a do or die situation for everyone right now. All they had to do now was wait and hope for the best… and Bonnie had learnt that waiting for the best didn’t always yield the most favourable results.

Damon surprised her by slapping a palm down on her shoulder and ducking his head so that he was better able to look into her eyes. Enzo tilted his head - he looked like a bird - to watch the interaction with interest and Bonnie could understand why; just as quickly as Damon had started his ranting and raving back up again, he had stopped. Damon was the most mercurial person that Bonnie had ever met. Bonnie made herself listen to the words coming out of Damon’s mouth instead of letting herself fully acknowledge what had immediately occurred to her at his touch: she hadn’t flinched away from the contact in the first place.

“We can do this, Bonnie. We can bring them back… Stefan, Ric, your Grams. We can save them.”

Before Bonnie could process the sheer use of ‘we’ in that little speech, Damon squeezed her shoulder and vamp-ran from the room, leaving Bonnie staring in front of her where he’d been just moments before. Enzo’s laugh was warm and rich in her ears. 

“He’s always been an odd one, Damon.” 

Bonnie laughed a little too. Enzo definitely wasn’t wrong. Bonnie had never known whether she was coming or going when it came to Damon. Just when she thought she’d found her footing with him he did something to upend that, leaving her to question whether she had ever really known or understood him at all. 

Bonnie was still rooted in place, lightly chuckling, when Luke appeared in front of her. Stupidly she called his name and Enzo twitched, looking around the room uselessly. Any feeling of amusement that might have remained immediately left her as she stared at the grave expression on Luke’s face. Luke had been in Mystic Falls and was supposed to be helping Liv with the spell; the spell was so involved that it would likely be too much for one witch to handle alone. If he was here - was _dead_ \- then things weren’t exactly going to plan. Big surprise. 

Luke lunged forward and grabbed her, his death rippling through her moments later. Bonnie winced and rubbed at her neck. At a guess he’d had his neck snapped, which pointed towards a pissed off vampire as being the culprit.

Enzo watched her react to something that he couldn’t see with a look on his face that Bonnie might actually label as concern. He ruined it by opening his mouth: “One less witch twin left in the world, I guess.”

Bonnie sighed so heavily that she almost made herself dizzy with it. “Enzo, that’s one more witch that I need to bring _back_ when this whole thing does down!”

“This list is getting uncomfortably long!”

No shit, Sherlock. Bonnie could only hope that everyone passing from the Other Side back to the real world wasn’t going to hurt as much as the opposite did. “Tell me about it. But with Liv, _not_ bringing her brother back would just be…”

“Smart? Savvy?”

“Cruel, Enzo. It would be cruel.” She bared her teeth at him in a parody of a smile, but getting through to a vampire on the warpath was like talking to a brick wall. If anything he only looked charmed by the action. Bonnie wondered at what point someone could just become so dismissive of human life… probably around the same time as _humans_ experimented on them for seventy years, she figured. Enzo was pretty much allowed to be as cavalier about human life as he liked, though Bonnie would never admit that out loud. Enzo scoffed, like she was being ridiculous. Bonnie huffed at him in response, hands braced on her hips. “None of this even matters if your mysterious Traveler doesn’t show.” 

Before Enzo could think of throwing another insensitive remark her way, Bonnie heard a voice - a familiar voice - from behind her. “Bonnie?”

Bonnie spun around, her eyes confirming what her ears already knew. It was Tyler. _Tyler was dead_? Did Caroline… had she killed him, to get the Traveler out? He sounded like himself, no traces of the Traveler’s unique cadence in his voice.

“Tyler? Is that you?”

“How the hell did I get here?”

Oh, god. Tyler didn’t know. They couldn’t be sure but at their best guess the Traveler had been in him about a week and there was no way he would have any idea what was going on. “Tyler, you’re dead… and you’re _you_ ,” Tyler was moving closer to her now, confusion evident in his dark eyes. “Caroline was right. Dying must have kicked out the Traveler who was riding along in your head.”

“Hang on, did you say I’m _dead_?”

The fear in his voice reminded Bonnie just how young they all were and how much they’d had to go through already. What Tyler had gone through. Activating his werewolf curse by accidentally killing someone was bad enough and that was even taking into consideration that Tyler had been turned into a hybrid against his will. It was all Bonnie could do to try and reassure him that this was all going to work out in the end. “You are dead, _technically_! But I can bring you back.”

Enzo sighed heartily behind her, and though she wasn’t looking at him his eye roll was like a physical touch on her back. “And the list keeps growing…”

“Tyler, I need you to trust me, okay?” Bonnie ignored Enzo and moved closer to Tyler, who’d frozen in place when she’d inelegantly told him he was dead. He looked like he was ready to bolt, eyes wide and breath coming fast. She kept her steps forward measured, one hand outstretched like she was soothing a scared animal. She’d once coaxed a lost dog to her the same way but she didn’t think that Tyler would appreciate the comparison, even if the spell the Travelers had cast had ripped his werewolf nature from him. 

“Do I have a choice?” Tyler’s voice was as shaking as Bonnie would have expected.

Her lips quirked up on one side in the most reassuring smile that she could manage to give him right now. She lifted her hand, tilted like she wanted him to shake it. Credit where credit was due, Tyler took it in stride. Taking a deep breath he gripped her hand tightly and his death moved through her only seconds later. It was probably the strangest one she had felt so far as the Anchor; her eyes and skin burned, her gums ached, then her neck throbbed with the telltale pain of bones snapping.

All of the magic that made Tyler who he was had been stripped away from him, one by one. First his Hybrid nature would have gone, then his triggered werewolf curse. Seems that the broken neck was the last horror Tyler had to experience. No matter how many snapped necks Bonnie had felt echoed in her own in the last twenty four hours, it wasn’t a feeling she ever thought she’d get used to. 

She just wanted this all to be over. Now that Tyler was waiting to be brought back from the Other Side with the others, all she could do was flop down on her bed and wait. It put her closer to Enzo, considering he had moved to sit against the headboard, but Bonnie didn’t care. Bonnie became aware of his eyes on her and that was too difficult to care about as well; Enzo didn’t have to stick around and count the dust motes if he didn’t want to, but she guessed staying in the Other Side wasn’t that much fun right now. There was no telling when the wind would pick up and try to tear Enzo away like it had been doing to other supernatural creatures for the past few days.

The plan trickled through to them in fits and starts, Bonnie’s phone chirping with text messages as the plan took shape. There was a gas line that ran through the town and the idea was to create a leak and gather the Travelers together at the Grill to create an explosion that would take them all out at once. They tended to move in groups, so taking out thirty to forty of them in one fell swoop wasn’t outside of the realm of possibility. As far as plans go it was rushed and _very_ insane, so Bonnie wasn’t surprised when her phone rang and Jeremy’s name flashed up on the screen.

It was going to take a while to get back to Mystic Falls so Bonnie got up off of the bed and gathered her things. Bonnie left her dorm with Enzo following her as closely as a shadow. She answered the phone. “Hi, Jer.”

He skipped the pleasantries completely, his voice urgent and scared. “I need to go with you, Bonnie.”

Bonnie let herself smile. As far as first loves go, her relationship with Jeremy hadn’t been as smooth sailing as she might’ve liked. Their first hurdle was of course him being her best friend's _younger brother,_ then there was the whole thing with him cheating on her with the ghost of his ex girlfriend. And that’s completely ignoring the period of time in which _Bonnie_ was dead. One thing that she can’t deny is that she loves him, even if that love has grown more worn and less integral to her being over time. Less like being _in_ love with him and more like just… loving him. Hearing the concern in Jeremy’s voice was a comfort. He wanted to protect her and make sure she was safe. It made it even harder to say no to him.

“No, you need to go and be a younger and hotter Bruce Willis.” Enzo snorted softly from behind her and it made Bonnie smile into the phone. “And if I take one step into Mystic Falls, goodbye magic and goodbye Anchor and… goodbye _me_.” 

She’s tried not to think too hard about what entering the borders of Mystic Falls would do to her. Magic brought her back from the dead, and having that magic stripped away would throw her right back to that state. Feeling cold constantly, not being able to feel anyone’s hands on her… even though she had begun to associate _all_ touch with feeling pain, Bonnie had no desire to go back to not being able to feel any touch at all, good or bad. It had been awful; she’d felt completely disconnected from the world around her in a way that was more isolating than anything she’d ever experienced.

Bonnie felt a hand land on her elbow and she jerked a little in surprise. When she glanced over her shoulder she found Enzo looking at her with open concern on his face. She might be putting every ounce of the bravado she didn’t really feel into her voice for Jeremy’s sake, but Enzo could see right through it. His hand only stayed there for a moment - Bonnie found herself wondering if Enzo had picked up on her aversion to being touched - but Bonnie fiercely appreciates the gesture and the kindness behind it. She steeled herself for the conversation that was about to happen because there was no way it was going to fucking suck.

Jeremy’s voice filtered back through the phone and into Bonnie’s ear, bringing her back to the conversation. “Can you at least tell me how this is going to work?”

Bonnie took in a deep breath and prepared to get it all out in one go, foolishly hoping that Jeremy will be so overwhelmed by information that he won’t be able to pick out any one thing to dissect. “Being the Anchor to the Other Side is like being a gateway. Usually it’s one way, but when the Travelers die, Liv will do the spell. Her magic, combined with all of the dead Travelers using me to pass through to the Other Side, will rip open a doorway that can be used to get from the Other Side back to the land of the living. It’s how Markos got here.”

She was walking slowly enough that Enzo had moved to walk alongside her, students unknowingly walking right through him like he was nothing more than air. Bonnie had to remind herself that to them, he _was_ nothing more than air. Only she could feel his touch even if it was devoid of the warmth it would carry if he were alive. His presence at her side still managed to be comforting.

“But what about you? What happens to you?” Jeremy’s voice had become slighter harder, like he was picking up on the strained tone of her voice after all. He was young but Bonnie could never accuse him of being stupid.

It had been a pipe dream to hope that Jeremy missed that Bonnie had explained how exactly _she_ factored into all of this. “I stop being the Anchor.”

“Yeah, but… how do _you_ get through? It’s not like you can pass through yourself, right?”

Even though she had known he would ask - she’d already died once and Jeremy knew to be cautious if something sounded too good to be true in this crazy fucked up life they lived - Bonnie hadn’t figured out a good way to answer that wasn’t an outright lie. “Jer, I’ll be fine. Look, I’ve gotta go, okay? Be careful.”

Bonnie hung up and held her breath for a count of two before Enzo spoke up from beside her. “What is your plan, exactly?”

Bonnie looked up at him, hoping her face projected confidence that she didn’t yet feel. “ _My_ plan is _my_ job, and the spell is yours, which apparently you suck at. We should already be on the road.”

Enzo had that same furrow between his full brows as he had earlier. Like he was confused, and still concerned for her. It was nice to know that while Enzo was hellbent on getting back to the land of the living he had time to wonder at what this all meant for _her_. He was perhaps a nicer guy that she’d given him credit for; he’d put up with Damon for five years in what amounted to jail without killing him, after all. He couldn’t be all bad.

Thoughts of Enzo’s morality quickly evaporated when Bonnie spotted Stefan ahead of them, leaning casual as anything against an open doorway. He grinned when he saw that he’d been noticed, flashing a fang. “I’m late, aren’t I? I was watching some eighty-year-old witch get dragged off to… who knows where. It was weirdly entertaining.” 

That… didn’t sound like something Stefan would ever find joy in. But if it looked like Stefan but it wasn’t _actually_ Stefan, that could only mean one thing. One really, really awful thing. Bonnie was distantly aware that she was standing there gawping with her mouth open but she didn’t think she could stop right now. Enzo saved her from any awkwardness by speaking instead.

“Not exactly Stefan, love. Meet the Traveler who’s been so kind as to help us out…” Silas was a Traveler, but Silas was dead. Silas was _dead._ If Bonnie thought crossing her fingers might delay the inevitable, she would do it. Enzo just had to go and ruin it. “You might know him better as the first Immortal, desperate for a cure.”

Her blood ran cold. Of all the Travelers that Enzo could have found who were willing to do the job, Bonnie realised she should have known who it would be long before the devastating reveal: Silas. Silas, who made Damon on his worst day look like a kitten growling at a toy mouse. Fucking hell, Silas even made _Klaus_ seem like a perfectly rational guy. Bonnie was expected to trust Silas to help them and to have their best interests in mind let alone in his heart? She could kill Enzo again herself for doing this to them. Bonnie had watched as Silas murdered her father in front of the whole town, helpless to do anything but watch! She spoke without any conscious thought.

“You killed my dad.” Her voice shook with a combination of terror and fury. Despite that, it took all the strength in her body not to move back when Silas walked closer to her, smirk firmly on his face. Even though Bonnie felt betrayed by Enzo right now - he _had_ to know just how much Bonnie hated Silas - she still felt reassured when Enzo put himself between the Silas’ advancing form and her. Silas looked curiously between Enzo and Bonnie before he smirked, regarding Bonnie over Enzo’s shoulder.

“Maybe so, but I’m the one who’s going to help you get all of your friends back. And me, along with them.”

Bonnie wanted to tell Silas to fuck off. This was a no-win scenario, though, and he had to know that she knew that. Silas was their only hope of making this shit show work. Bonnie would just have to find a way to guarantee that when the Other Side tore itself in two and sent whoever was left there to… wherever it was sending everyone, that Silas was firmly in the group getting torn to bits. There was no way that he even remotely deserved to come back, not after what he’d done to her. 

Silas smirked impossibly wider like he was amused by her inner turmoil and her murderous rage. The bastard was psychic, Bonnie couldn’t forget that. His voice was silky and disgusting. “So what do you say… bygones?”

Bonnie grit her teeth and marched past him and out of the building entirely, storming her way to the car. They had a long drive ahead of them before they would reach Mystic Falls, and Bonnie knew that Silas would do everything he could to make the trip as unbearable as possible.

\--

After Bonnie threatened to drive them off of the round for the fifth time in ten minutes Silas had fallen blessedly silent, not speaking until they reached the cemetery and it was time to teach Bonnie the spell that was going to save everyone. The spell felt foreign in her mouth, the words old and clunky. Silas would say them and Bonnie would repeat them as Silas got more and more frustrated with her pronunciation - or lack of it.

“I feel like I’m teaching Calculus to an infant!”

Bonnie scoffed, spreading her hands wide as if to say _what can you do_? “Excuse me for being a little concerned about unleashing a plague on humanity! Maybe I don’t _want_ to get the spell right.”

Silas only laughed, like he was delighted by her. “Oh, I’ve been upgraded to a _plague_? How biblical. I like it!” He rested his chin on his closed fist in a poor imitation of The Thinker. “And quite fitting, considering I probably will kill a lot of people in an all-inclusive way once I’m out of here.”

Bonnie curled her lip in disgust. She wanted to turn away from him but she couldn’t stomach the thought of having someone as evil as Silas at her back. Silas tried to ask her how Stefan was doing and Bonnie wanted to scream. They were on a time limit here and Silas was acting like this was all just a game to him. “Just teach me the damn spell, would you? I don’t need the color commentary.”

Elena and Liv came bursting into the Salvatore Crypt where Silas was teaching her the spell, hope written all over their clueless faces. They didn’t have to live through the horror of trying to work with Silas on his worst behaviour. Elena asked Bonnie if they’d really found a Traveler willing to do the spell, looking around the crypt like she’d suddenly be able to see them. 

Bonnie tried to smile at her and knew that it was mostly a failure by the dubious expression on Liv’s face. “Yep! Learning the spell as we speak!”

Silas raised his eyebrows at her, clearly expecting that Bonnie would tell Elena and Liv who the mysterious Traveler was, exactly. Bonnie thought the less they knew about it the better; if they knew that Silas was helping with the expectation that he be let out as well, they’d want Bonnie to find someone else to help. They didn’t have _time_ for someone else. Sometimes making a deal with the devil really was the only available option.

Elena looked around the room before cheerily announcing, “Thank you, whoever you are!” 

Silas moved toward her, talking as if Elena could hear him. “It’s me, the perfect specimen of man -” 

“Moody old lady,” Bonnie interjected, Silas turning to her with a look of incredulity across his face, “She’s kinda senile, actually. Smells a little like mothballs and cats.” 

Elena’s face fell for a moment before her trademark enthusiasm was back. She rocked back on her heels, curls bouncing. “Got it. Well, thanks anyway! You’re really helping us out. I’m gonna go call Damon and let him know that we’re ready to go.” She turned and left without another word, leaving Bonnie with a very reluctant looking Liv. It was Go Time.

Bonnie shifted her focus to the Other Side. It had been strange to her, at first, just how easy it was to do; one moment she was present in the real world, the sound of life surrounding her on every side, and the next she was in the desaturated plane that made up supernatural purgatory, surrounded by dead people. One such dead person hollered from outside the crypt, British accent belying his impatience.

“Bonnie, how’s it going in there?” 

Silas had quickly kicked Enzo out when he kept interjecting, asking what the words of the spell meant, what language was it in, so on. Bonnie wished that he’d stayed just so she wouldn’t have had to stare at Silas the entire time. 

She stepped outside into the whipping winds of the disintegrating Other Side. The air wasn’t cold but it still stung her face and made her eyes water. Bonnie walked over to Enzo, stopping about a foot from him. The wind made her feel like she had to shout as it was and it was just easier to stand closer. “We’re good. Silas is a shitty mentor, by the way.”

Before Enzo could reply the noise of the wind escalated to a howl, high and piercing. Bonnie’s skin broke out in goosebumps and she moved closer to Enzo without thinking about it. His hand gripped her elbow in the same place as it had earlier and this time Bonnie didn’t jerk away, even pressed into the touch minutely. Enzo didn’t want to hurt her and her fear-filled hindbrain recognized that.

“It’s coming back. We have to hurry, love.” The endearment kept slipping out but Bonnie had heard Enzo call Caroline ‘gorgeous’ time and time again and thought nothing of it; it was probably just another quirk of Enzo’s enigmatic personality. At the present moment he sounded urgent, dark eyes searching the forest around them like the force tearing people away was a physical thing that he’d be able to see and fight against.

Right on time, Silas came bursting from the crypt, a matching look of urgency in his expression. Bonnie would put good money on Silas being even more eager to be free of the Other Side and whatever it had planned for him than Enzo was. “The witch has everything set up! Let’s get on with it.”

Enzo opened his mouth to reply and was torn back by the wind, or by some invisible hands - he had been standing strong in front of Bonnie and then he was gone, ripped away. Bonnie rocked forward a step or two, brought along somewhat by the grip Enzo had had on her elbow. Enzo’s back slammed heavily against a thin tree and he grunted in pain and Silas went flying past Bonnie moments later. The wind was getting stronger. Silas tried to grab at the tree holding Enzo in place and missed, catapulting through the air to land about eight feet away in the pine needles that littered the forest floor.

“Bonnie, help me!” Enzo sounded scared, more than Bonnie had ever heard him. The wind was only pressing at her back, not trying to throw her off her feet. She rushed forward and grabbed Enzo’s arm and tried to anchor him in place as best she could. The irony of the action wasn’t lost on her. With her arm to hold on to Enzo was able to get his footing more solidly and Bonnie moved past the tree to look at Silas. He was reaching his hand out to her, a dying man desperate to be saved. 

Bonnie reached her own hand out, her green eyes locking with Silas’. He was grunting with the effort of staying place with nothing to grab onto, the wind ripping at his clothes and hair as it tried to get a strong enough hold on him to tear him away into oblivion. The satisfaction Bonnie felt at seeing Silas so terrified of the unknown - none of them knew what actually waited past the Other Side, where the ones who had been taken were going - settled in her bones. Enzo shifted his grip on her so that he was holding her hand. Again Bonnie didn’t flinch; when Enzo squeezed her hand she squeezed back. It was almost like he was supporting her and whatever course of action she chose to take right now.

Just as Silas’ fingers grazed her own, Bonnie smiled at him with all of her teeth. What was it Silas had said? Oh, that’s right. She raised her voice so that it would carry over the howling wind. “Bygones!” 

She yanked her hand away, moving so her back was against the tree Enzo was holding onto. As soon as she was close enough Enzo’s free arm went around the trunk of the narrow tree and around her waist, securing her even though it wasn’t Bonnie that the wind wanted. No, right now it wanted Silas. He screamed in rage once and stared at her. She couldn’t take her eyes off of him, his face wide open and vulnerable with the disbelief at what she was doing to him. Like he thought he deserved _better_. 

The wind didn’t grant Silas the opportunity to have the last word, grabbing hold of him and sucking him away, his screams echoing through the forest long after he’d disappeared into the ever-darkening sky. Bonnie didn’t say anything for a moment and neither did Enzo, though his breath was heavy in her ears. His arm didn’t move from her waist and Bonnie let herself relax; she took a moment to close her eyes and just _be_ for a moment amongst all of this chaos. 

When Enzo spoke against the sensitive shell of her ear, Bonnie’s hand twitched in his grip; his words were colored with a laugh. “Bonnie Bennett… love, remind me not to get on your bad side.”

Bonnie shivered and she was prepared to blame it on the wind whipping around them if Enzo asked. That deep British voice so close to her ear was far too distracting for the life-or-death situation they were currently enjoying. As much as Bonnie might like to stay right there, she had other things to do. This time when Bonnie squeezed his hand it was in acknowledgement of his comment _and_ the admiring tone it was delivered in. Enzo could be devilishly charming when he wasn’t being a colossal pain in her ass. 

Bonnie finally made herself tug against the pressure of Enzo’s arm so he would let her move away from the tree; now that the wind had taken Silas it had died down somewhat and they could move freely again. Though Enzo had let her move, he hadn’t yet dropped her hand. Bonnie felt so starved of touch that she wasn’t eager to let go either but she made herself do it even as she smiled up at him. It was probably the most genuine smile that she had managed since she’d left Whitmore with a psychopath and a ghost for company. Enzo just stared at her, a faint smirk quirking his lips. 

Squaring her shoulders, Bonnie started walking back towards the crypt, Enzo immediately falling into step beside her. Time to save the world… _again_.

\--

As she stood amongst the headstones of her Bennett ancestors, Bonnie thought of all the times in the last week that letting herself hope had only led to disaster. Not once had anything turned out the way she would have wanted - Stefan and Elena getting kidnapped, the Travelers starting the spell and supernaturals dying left and right, Stefan _dying_ , losing the Traveler who was going to help with the spell and being forced to work with Silas… Their plan to save the Other Side and everyone in it had been a comedy of errors so far. 

Despite all of the signs that it was only going to end in tears and heartbreak, Bonnie hoped. She hoped desperately that her Grams would listen to reason. That she would want to return to Mystic Falls with Bonnie to live as a family again. Bonnie selfishly thought that she deserved at least that much. She had gone through enough in the last three years to deserve _that_ small semblance of happiness. But the rational side of her brain kept reminding her that her Grams would probably say no. Would insist that returning back to the life she’d lost would go against nature; that it was fundamentally wrong to mess with these sorts of things. Well, screw nature, Bonnie thought. She wanted this for herself. 

“Grams, come on… where are you?”

Bonnie had been standing in this godforsaken clearing for five minutes already and she was starting to get worried that she was too late, that her Grams had already been ripped away by the roaring winds and Bonnie was never going to see her again let alone bring her Grams back with her. Just when panic was really starting to set in, pine needles crunched from somewhere behind her and Bonnie turned around quickly just as her Grams finally walked into view. She looked good, considering, and Bonnie was so relieved to see her than it almost gave her a head rush. 

“What have I always told you, Bonnie Bennett? It’s rude to rush your elders!” Bonnie cracked a smile, moving towards her Grams. “We move a little slower.”

Unfortunately, Bonnie didn’t really have any time to spare for manners right now. “Thank god, Grams, I was worried you were already gone,” her Grams smiled sadly and moved to cup Bonnie’s face with her hand, thumb rubbing gently beneath her eye to soothe her. Time to pull out the big guns. “Grams, I found a way to get everyone out. I found a way to save everyone.”

Her Grams’ expression didn’t change. No joy flooded her expression, which is what Bonnie would have expected. When she spoke, her voice was disapproving. “Child, do you think I was born yesterday? I know what you’re doing, and it’s not saving _everyone_. You know you can’t survive all of these people moving through you, Bonnie. And even if you could? When it’s all said and done, you’re _still_ the Anchor. And when this place goes away -” 

Bonnie didn’t want to hear anymore. She grasped her Grams’ wrist where she still held her hand on Bonnie’s face. “I know what you’re about to say -” 

“No, you don’t. I was going to say that it’s been my _privilege_ to watch you grow into the beautiful woman you’ve become.” _Oh_. Bonnie sank her teeth into her bottom lip, tears rapidly filling her eyes. This was the last thing she needed right now. She took a deep breath to gather herself. She only had so long left to reason with her Grams and get her to see things Bonnie’s way.

“Grams, you need to pass through me. When the ritual begins, you need to get out.”

Even as she said the words her Grams was shaking her head, a stubborn smile firmly in place. “No. I’m staying here.” 

Bonnie had known that her Grams would be reluctant, but she didn’t think that she’d refuse outright. Surely she wanted to live? See Bonnie grow up properly, where she could interact with her instead of watching from the sidelines? Bonnie knew her reasons for wanting her Grams back weren’t unselfish but she didn’t _care_ ; Bonnie was so lonely sometimes that she ached with it.

“Grams - you can’t! This place, it’s imploding. It’s going to take everyone with it!” 

Imagining her Grams receiving the same fate as the one Silas had just been dealt was never going to sit right with Bonnie. Her Grams didn’t deserve that. She deserved _peace_ , not whatever horrors existed past this place. 

Her Grams wouldn’t be swayed. “I can’t come Bonnie,” Bonnie felt her heart breaking at the words. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this! “You’re not the only member of this family that knows how to make a sacrifice.”

Bonnie’s brows furrowed. What was her Grams on about? “What does that mean?”

“It means that I’m going to be fine. I found _peace_.” Bonnie looked away quickly, tears that she’d been determined not to shed beginning to spill over. It’s what she’d wanted for her Grams, but just not how she’d envisioned it happening. Before she got too consumed by her sadness, her Grams continued. “Because I made sure that you’ll find yours.”

Now Bonnie was even more confused than she had been just moments before. Her Grams had found a way for Bonnie to find peace? How? Bonnie didn’t see an ending to this that ended well for her, let alone one where she somehow managed to find peace. “I don’t understand?”

“That’s not your concern, child… just know that I looked out for you, Bonnie,” and she reached forward to gather Bonnie up into her arms, the feeling of her narrow body so familiar to Bonnie that she felt a sob rip through her. Her tears were making it difficult to see. She’d lost her Grams once before and it had been awful beyond anything she’d ever experienced, but this was worse because she could do something about it and her Grams wasn’t _letting her._ “I love you, Bonnie. You stay strong.” 

Bonnie only cried harder, gripping her Grams as tight as she dared. She wished that she could feel the warmth of her Grams’ body or smell the perfume that she wore that always tickled Bonnie’s nose with its musk. Being able to hold her one last time like this would have to be enough. “I love you, Grams.”

They stood like that, wrapped in each other’s embrace, for a few minutes longer. By some unspoken agreement they both disengaged at the same time, her Grams turning away while Bonnie rubbed roughly at the tears on her cheeks. Every step her Grams took back into the forest made the crack in Bonnie’s heart grow wider and deeper until she felt like she was going to fly apart. Eventually Bonnie couldn’t see her Grams through the trees and she sucked in a shuddering breath and braced herself. As much as Bonnie would like to stand there and cry for a while, she had work to do. A lot more. 

\--

The cemetery was close enough to the town that the explosion lit up the sky. Bonnie couldn’t hear the screams of the Travelers - if they had even been _in the Grill_ \- but she imagined that she could feel the warmth of the blast of her face, even as far away as she was. The conversation with her Grams had unsettled her; Bonnie was desperate to know what she had meant when she had told Bonnie that she was making a sacrifice in Bonnie’s name, that she’d found a way for Bonnie to find peace. Only time would tell, Bonnie supposed.

Confirmation that Damon’s harebrained scheme had worked didn’t take long to arrive. The crunch of leaves and pine needles filled the air around her, the feet of forty Travelers moving closer to where she stood near the crypt. All of the people who had been ruining their lives for the past few months were dead and moving towards her, ready to pass through to the Other Side en masse. Bonnie took a fortifying breath and faced them head on, Markos’ scowling face coming into focus with the rest of the Travelers clustered behind him. It was an intimidating group to look at, knowing that they were all going to go tearing through her in mere moments.

“We meet again…” He stopped in front of her, close enough to touch. Bonnie hoped she was imagining the smell of charred flesh, because _gross_. “You really think that you can stop us? We can do this all day, Bonnie. Your friends kill me and I come right back through you.” He kept advancing on her and despite herself she shrunk away, not ready to feel his death, or the death of all of his friends after him. Something told her that death-by-explosion would hurt slightly more than a regular old neck snap. He smirked at her, his handsome face distorted by the hate she saw there. “I look forward to the deja vu.”

He gripped her shoulders tightly and was gone. The pain was _excruciating_ , and the other Travelers didn’t allow her a breath to recover. Their hands rained down on her body - landing on her face, her neck, her back - and as each death went through Bonnie she screamed louder, until her voice was hoarse with it. The pain made her feel like she was going to throw up, and she hunched over with her hands braced on her knees before she even noticed that they were all gone. That each and every one of them had passed through to the Other Side, hopefully to be trapped there forever. Bonnie was just getting her breath back when a frantic voice called out her name, ringing around the deathly silent forest.

It was Elena. She was running towards Bonnie without a scratch on her and Bonnie was so happy to see her that she could cry, maybe already was by the tight feeling of her cheeks. Bonnie was more than ready to stop being the Anchor, whatever that might mean. “Elena! Did it… did it work? Are you…” She couldn’t bring herself to ask outright if one of her best friends of fifteen years was dead and Elena saved her the trouble, nodding in confirmation just as she stopped in front of Bonnie. 

Elena seemed out of breath as she looked around, looking for something. More like some _one_. “Bonnie, has Damon… is he?”

Bonnie saw Damon coming from over Elena’s shoulder. He looked stressed, inky dark hair ruffled like he’d been running his hands through it as he made his way to them. Bonnie felt sympathetic; she had a feeling that triggering the explosion that killed the Travelers involved his car and one hell of a thrill ride. And Elena right by his side, which Bonnie doubted had been in the original plan if Damon’s track record of protecting Elena at all costs was to be believed. 

Bonnie pointed at Damon over Elena’s shoulder and Elena turned, her face instantly splitting with a huge smile. Relief at seeing Damon mostly alive and well. Nothing said romance like dying gruesomely together in the name of the greater good, Bonnie guessed. Once they were both standing in front of her and waiting expectantly, Bonnie told them how it was going to work. “When you touch me and pass through to the Other Side, you’ll need to go and find your bodies. You need to reconnect with them before you can come and find me here, and then you’ll touch me again… with Liv doing the spell, you’ll travel back through me back before the Other Side rips itself apart.” Bonnie tried to smile encouragingly but she honestly still felt a little nauseous from the Travelers, so she doubted it looked anything in the realm of convincing. Damon and Elena were both nodding along, though, so she could only assume they knew what was required of them. 

Neither of them reached for her, and she loved them for it. For giving her the power to touch them instead of forcing their deaths on her simultaneously as the Travelers had done. Bonnie reached out with both hands but changed her mind almost as she did it, instead choosing to touch Elena first. Her death was a sharp yet all-consuming thing, making Bonnie groan in discomfort. Bonnie wondered if her throat was too raw for more screaming.

When Bonnie’s eyes refocused she found that Damon’s eyebrows were pinched, a surprising amount of concern showing on his face. “Death isn’t your color, little witch.”

Bonnie snorted out an inelegant laugh as she reached out her hand again towards Damon. “Nope.”

Damon hesitated a moment but ultimately he reached out, clasping her hand like they were going to shake. Bonnie braced herself for the feeling of his death but it never came; one moment he was standing in front of her and the next he wasn’t. It was a small blessing and Bonnie was thankful for it all the same. With both Elena and Damon gone, all she could was wait. When the Gilbert ring brought Alaric back the first time, he’d been close to his body. Considering this was the first time Damon and Elena were _properly_ dead - having your neck snapped wouldn’t have been enough to bring them to the Other Side - Bonnie crossed her fingers in the hopes that they wouldn’t have to search long for their bodies.After a few minutes of tense waiting, they started to find her. First came Stefan and his vampire friend Lexi, with Tyler and Enzo arriving shortly after. Bonnie was about to tell them to start heading through when Luke came bursting out of the Salvatore Crypt, shouting that they had to hurry, that the spell was too much for Liv.

Stefan wouldn’t hear it. “No, we go together! Damon isn’t here yet!”

Luke turned away from Stefan, looking right at Bonnie. He was close enough to touch and Bonnie saw the conviction in his eyes as he reached out to touch her. “I don’t care.” He ripped through her, the first to go through and get back to the real world. She tried to muffle her scream, surprised that it hurt as much for people to go back as it did to feel them die in the first place. Another foolish hope dashed.

When she had recovered, Bonnie looked at the others. Maybe Luke was right and it was better to get people going through now instead of waiting to do it all at once; Liv might not be able to keep this up much longer. “You need to go through!”

Tyler shook his head, stubborn even in death. “What about the others?” 

Enzo was already moving forward, determined to finally be free. “Bonnie’s right. We don’t know how much time we have.” Bonnie watched him come closer until they were almost toe to toe; Bonnie had to tilt her head up slightly to maintain eye contact. She thought that Enzo might grab her shoulder or maybe her hand like he had only an hour earlier, but instead Enzo leaned forward and lightly kissed the wind-chilled skin of her temple. Warmth rushed through her. Just like with Damon’s death, Bonnie didn’t feel it when Enzo passed back through her and popped out back in Mystic Falls. What was up with that? 

For a moment the Other Side disappeared around her, so it was just herself and Enzo in the clearing. Luke must be in the crypt with Liv, helping her with the spell. Enzo hadn’t yet moved away, his lips soft against her forehead. They moved against her skin as he spoke. “Sorry about that, love.”

As he pulled his mouth away he gripped the side of her neck lightly with a big hand and just looked at her. Bonnie couldn’t help feeling like he was memorizing the features of her face. Just like she had earlier, Bonnie shivered. Enzo gave her a fleeting smile and walked around her and out of the graveyard. The warm feeling he’d left behind lingered but Bonnie couldn’t let herself get distracted right now, not when there was so much as stake. A shake of her head settled Bonnie back into the Other Side, the expectant eyes of her friends resting on her. 

Tyler, his reluctance gone, moved forward and touched her arm as soon as he could see her again. He disappeared and Bonnie gasped through his death, left now with only Stefan and Lexi in the clearing. Though the wind hadn’t picked up again Bonnie could sense that they were running out of time. The Other Side was going away, whether any of them liked it or not. She reached out her hands to Stefan and Lexi. “Come on, you have to go!” 

They looked between themselves. Stefan wouldn’t leave before Damon and Elena got back and Bonnie figured that Lexi was staying put until Stefan left. Her suspicions were confirmed when neither of them moved. Bonnie was about to yell at them to hurry up when Elena came bursting into the clearing, a quick look around telling her what she didn’t want to know: Damon wasn’t back yet. 

The color drained out of Elena’s face and she would have collapsed to the forest floor if it weren’t for Stefan’s hands catching her. Bonnie was quietly worried as well; Damon should have been back by now. Where was he? Elena was talking to herself now, voice getting louder with her distress. “Where is he? He should be here by now! Where is he, Bonnie?”

Stefan was looking to the edges of the clearing, expression becoming tighter when Damon didn’t emerge. Bonnie imagined that she could see the resolve settling onto his face as he nudged Elena towards Bonnie. “Elena, you go! We’re running out of time. I’ll wait here for Damon!”

“No! I’m not leaving without him!” Elena planted her feet, preventing Stefan from pushing her any closer to where Bonnie was waiting with her hands outstretched. 

Bonnie knew that Elena was telling the truth. Elena would stay here until the very last second in the hope that Damon would arrive back at the eleventh hour and they could return together. That the Universe would finally let them be happy. But Bonnie wasn’t prepared to risk Elena’s life. The Other Side couldn’t have her the way it had had Silas. 

Bonnie lunged forward and grabbed Elena tightly, Elena yelling and twisting in her arms like a disgruntled cat before she was ripped out of the Other Side and deposited back in Mystic Falls proper.

Shaking off the Other Side, Bonnie saw that Elena had crumpled to the ground, tears falling from her eyes to land on the leaves underneath her. She looked up at Bonnie like she’d been betrayed. If things went really south here, Bonnie worried that Elena would never forgive her for taking her future with Damon away from her. “No, Bonnie! Why would you do that? I can’t leave without him!”

Caroline must have arrived after Tyler moved through Bonnie because she was standing off to the side of the cemetery with confusion plain on her face, looking between Bonnie and where Elena was crumpled at her feet. Bonnie didn’t have time to bring Caroline up to speed.

“I’ll find him, Elena!” Bonnie tried to put all of her confidence into her voice but she didn’t know how successful it was; after all, she couldn’t guarantee with certainty that they _would_ find Damon. He should have been back already and so should Alaric… what if something had happened to them? There were plenty of dead supernaturals here who’d like to cause them both some pain, given the opportunity. Bonnie could only pray that they were together and working to find their way back to where Bonnie was waiting. Caroline was beginning to realize that things were once again not going to plan, her bright blue eyes filling with fear.

“What? What’s going on? Who are we missing? Where’s Stefan!” Caroline was moving closer to Bonnie with every word.

Before she could answer, Bonnie coughed. Her lungs hurt with the motion and she coughed again, harder, spitting a worryingly large amount of blood into her hand. Elena and Caroline looked at her with horror but Bonnie was already stumbling, the Other Side rushing back around her as she fell. Strong hands caught her: Stefan. As he moved through her the Other Side disappeared around her again and the constant in and out of it was making her head ache in a way that she had never experienced before. It only took a few haunted seconds of Bonnie panting in place for Stefan to realize what had happened. 

“No… no, no, no!” Stefan’s voice was reedy with panic in a way that Bonnie didn’t think she had ever heard it. He hadn’t meant to catch her and pass through, had intended to stay until Damon made it to the clearing. Bonnie’s heart hurt for him, or Bonnie thought it did because it was hard to tell when her entire body was throbbing with pain. Another coughing fit wracked her body. She had known that this spell would take a lot out of Liv and that she herself probably wasn’t going to make it, having so many people move through her, but she’d thought that she would have held up better than this.

“What’s wrong?!” Caroline had moved forward and was holding onto Stefan as he yelled into the night, trying to stop him from collapsing onto the floor right next to where Elena continued to sob. Bonnie didn’t think that Elena had stopped since she’d landed back in Mystic Falls and had been faced with the possibility of a future without Damon in it.

Through her tears Elena was looking at Stefan with undisguised hurt in her eyes; he had promised to wait for Damon, yet here he was. Stefan was trying to explain that he hadn’t meant to come through, that he’d meant to wait. That he’d been _willing_ to wait for Damon, so that they’d all be reunited. Caroline was crying silently now, too. That surprised Bonnie a little; she hadn’t realised that the burnt bridge between Caroline and Damon had been mended quite so much. At the same time, if anyone was going to possess the capacity to forgive someone like Damon, who had so many past wrongs, it was Caroline. 

Now Elena was looking up at Bonnie. “This can’t be happening! Bonnie, you have to get him back. You have to!”

“It’s going to be okay, Elena. I’ll get him back.” Bonnie didn’t wait for an answer. The overwrought emotions of the three of them were too much for her to handle when she already felt spread so thin. If the spell was affecting her this badly it must be ten times worse for Liv, and time was running out. Both for the Other Side and Bonnie, if the constant pain rolling through her was any indication. If she wanted to bring Damon and Alaric back, she had to do it now. Bonnie willed the Other Side to show itself to her and she found Lexi standing in front of her, closer than she had been, concern evident on her heart-shaped face.

“Bonnie… this is _killing_ you, isn’t it?” 

Despite the concern in her voice, Lexi hadn't moved any closer to Bonnie. She was almost tilted away from her, like she didn’t want to touch Bonnie at all. The wind had picked up again and Bonnie’s eyes were streaming, though that could have been because of unshed tears. She could barely see. “I can hold on, Lexi. I can do this,” she held out her hand, but Lexi flinched away. “Come through! We have to finish this!” 

Suddenly a shape came tearing through the trees: it was Markos and to say he was pissed would be an understatement. He roared and tackled Lexi to the ground and Bonnie barely had time to jump out of the way. There was no version of this where she let Markos come back through her to continue his reign of terror on the town. 

Markos might be a strong Traveler, but Lexi was an old vampire with more than enough experience holding her own in a fight. His roar had announced his presence and Lexi had time to prepare for the assault, headbutting him savagely in the face when he tripped to pin her to the ground. Markos grunted in pain and tried to get a better grip on her but she was thrashing around like her life depended on it, eventually rolling them over. The wind was picking up even more around them, the noise of it almost a deafening howl. Lexi stopped hitting Markos and smirked at him; when he tried to roll them again, she let him. She knew she had won.

As Markos raised his fist to hit Lexi once more, the Other Side bodily picked him up, his triumphant cry at besting Lexi fading into nothing as he was ripped through the canopy of the trees. It reminded Bonnie of the fate that Silas had recently enjoyed and she smiled, even though the pain was becoming overwhelming now. Lexi was still on the ground and Bonnie reached a hand out to her. “Come on! You _really_ need to go now, Lexi!”

Lexi stood up, but instead of moving closer to take Bonnie’s hand she stepped even further away. “I can’t, Bonnie… every person who passes through takes you one step closer to death. What kind of best friend would I be if you died before Stefan got his brother back?”

It was said with such conviction that Bonnie lowered her hand slightly. Lexi had turned away from her and was raising her arms to the sky and the wildly swaying trees around them, almost like she was praying. Bonnie privately didn’t think that there was any God listening to anything any of them had to say. It was obvious that Lexi was okay with whatever was going to happen to her, that she maybe even thought she was going to find peace before the Other Side disappeared. 

Bonnie considered her options. Stefan adored Lexi; she had brought him back from his Ripper binges more than once and could make him laugh when few others could. Though it had served him at the time Bonnie thought that Damon felt regret at killing Lexi, both because it had soured his relationship with Stefan and because Damon was capable of feeling intense guilt even though he pretended the opposite. The fact of it was that Lexi was a good person. A great person, even. She was definitely strong enough to forgive Bonnie for what she was about to do. 

“I’m sorry, Lexi.” Bonnie rushed towards her, clasping her hand on Lexi’s shoulder. Lexi snapped her head around to look at Bonnie, eyes wide with surprise. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, she passed through Bonnie and back into Mystic Falls. “We need you back home.”

That might work out to be the understatement of the year if Damon and Alaric didn’t arrive soon. The Other Side was beginning to lighten in color, a brightness that hurt Bonnie’s eyes on top of all of the other aches and pains she was experiencing right now. Just as she was starting to really worry, Damon and Alaric walked into the clearing. They both looked winded and a little wide about the eyes like even they didn’t think they were going to make it in time. 

“Oh, thank god.” She lunged forward and grabbed Ric, not wanting to wait and find out that he wasn’t sure about going back. He was going, whether he liked it or not. Ric only smiled, covering her hands with his own much larger ones. He smiled at her and was gone. One more to go. She had to get Damon back through for Elena, Bonnie knew that she owed her that much.

Bonnie reached for Damon but he stepped back, looking around them. “Not yet: where’s Elena?” It was noble of him to want the certainty of knowing that Elena was safe back in Mystic Falls before he would even consider passing through Bonnie. At least it was reassurance that Bonnie could readily give him.

“Elena’s okay!” Damon’s shoulders slumped with relief and Bonnie smiled. “She’s waiting for you, Damon. You need to go!”

Satisfied now that Elena was as safe as she was going to get, Damon moved closer to Bonnie again. “Okay, let’s get this show on the road.”

Bonnie grinned and grabbed his arms. Nothing. Nothing? Bonnie stared at where she was touching Damon. It hadn’t mattered before if she was touching someone’s clothes so it shouldn’t matter now, surely. Bonnie moved her hands to his face and closed her eyes, opening them seconds later to see him looking at her with resignation. _No._ Bonnie didn’t want this for him. Damon might be an ass but he deserved this chance to make a future with Elena, finally. To be happy. Bonnie let go and grabbed him again, hands resting on either side of his neck this time. Still nothing. Damon smiled a hollow smile. He didn’t move away from her, but Bonnie could tell that all hope had left him. 

“Well, would you look at that.” 

Like he’d expected it not to work. Like he’d somehow known that the Universe would deny him this and leave him to be torn apart by the Other Side. Damon raised his hands and grasped her wrists, gently pulling her hands away from his neck. When he let go Bonnie let her arms hang limply at her sides. The wind was so loud that they had to move closer to even hear each other. Bonnie knew that if she couldn’t send Damon back, there was no getting out of this now. They were going to die here with only each other for company.

Bonnie shook off the Other Side, her vision showing double for a moment before she found her footing. She rushed to the crypt and looked inside, finding it empty. Liv was gone, the candles she’d been using for the spell guttered out and scattered haphazardly across the floor. Elena was outside and shouting for Liv, hands tugging at her hair like she didn’t know what to do. Bonnie’s heart broke for her. When Elena spotted Bonnie she rushed over, hands grabbing her arms too tightly like she’d forgotten her own strength or more like she didn’t care.

“Bonnie, we need… we need to start the spell again, we have to -”

“Elena… we can’t. That was our one shot, Liv’s gone-” Bonnie’s voice was quiet but it wouldn’t have mattered because Elena wasn’t listening to anything she was saying right now.

Elena wasn’t going to listen to reason. “Bonnie, Damon is still over there! We can’t leave him, we can’t, we _can’t_ -” and she was sobbing again, her larger form crumpling against Bonnie. She barely had the strength to hold her up. Bonnie heard Alaric swear heartily from nearby; Elena was losing the love of her life, and Alaric was losing his best friend.

“Elena! Hey… it’s too late, I’m so sorry,” Bonnie’s eyes were streaming again, staring into Elena’s own dark eyes as they both cried. She gripped Elena’s arms but knew that there was no comfort that she could offer Elena right now. Damon was gone and soon Bonnie would be too. Just as Bonnie was beginning to feel painfully helpless Lexi appeared at Elena’s side, her eyes free of any judgement when she looked at Bonnie. Maybe there weren’t going to be any hard feelings for forcing Lexi to come back? It would be nice to have a little luck on her side. Lexi wrapped an arm around Elena and Elena sobbed into her shoulder, her entire body shaking with the force of it.

The Other Side had begun to blend together with the regular world for Bonnie; it was trying to drag her back and down with it. Bonnie sensed Damon behind her, turning to see his devastated expression as he watched Elena cry for him. They barely had any time left and Bonnie turned back to Elena. “Elena… Damon’s here.” Elena looked around and cried harder; she must have thought that Bonnie meant that he’d come through, not that he was on the Other Side watching her. Bonnie’s heart broke all over again for her best friend. “Elena, you can say goodbye.”

Lexi stepped away from Elena and came to Bonnie’s side, wrapping her arm around Bonnie this time like she recognised that Bonnie needed the comfort. Bonnie was fiercely grateful then that she had forced Lexi to come back; she might just be the steadiness that would stop Elena from going over the edge. As they left the crypt Bonnie’s arm brushed Damon’s and she glanced up at his face. He was staring at Elena like - like it was the last time he would ever see her. Because it _was_. There was no getting out of this now. They were going to die on the Other Side, together. Permanently. 

Bonnie looked hurriedly away from him and she and Lexi entered the clearing again, Lexi’s arm slipping from her shoulders as Lexi looked down at her. “Are you gonna be alright, kid?”

Bonnie rubbed at her nose and nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be alright… Stefan needs you, though.” 

Stefan was sitting on the forest floor with Caroline leaning against his side, whose hands were carding through his hair in an effort to offer him some sort of comfort. How much comfort could really be offered when he was losing his brother in slow motion? Lexi looked over at them and nodded to herself, starting to walk over. She’d made it a few steps when she stopped and turned to look back at Bonnie. 

“Bonnie… I forgive you,” and the words made Bonnie cry a little more, her emotions a frayed mess. She had been so worried that Lexi would hate her for denying her peace and Lexi was absolving her of that. Lexi looked back at Stefan once before meeting Bonnie’s eyes. She smiled. “I’ve got more work to do, haven’t I?” 

Lexi turned away from Bonnie for good this time as she moved to join Stefan and Caroline on the forest floor. It was immediately clear that Stefan had expected to lose his best friend a second time today and hadn’t realized that Lexi was alive and well again because his face briefly lit up with joy at the sight of Lexi before he began to cry, Lexi catching him as he slumped forward. 

Bonnie looked hurriedly away and pulled her phone out of her pocket, dialling the first number on her speed dial. They were running out of time and with Damon saying goodbye to Elena, Bonnie thought it was only fair that she spoke to Jeremy before the Other Side ripped itself apart for good. There was barely a single dial tone before Jeremy’s voice burst into her ear.

“Bonnie? Where are you?”

Jeremy was yelling, obviously frantic. Bringing everyone back from the Other Side shouldn’t have been taking so long and Bonnie guessed that he’d begun to put two and two together and had found that something must have gone wrong. Weariness settled upon Bonnie then. She regretted that she’d avoided Jeremy so steadfastly for the past week, only responding to his texts and letting most of his calls ring through to her voicemail. It was easier than telling him the truth, which is what Bonnie knew she had to do now even if it was going to hurt Jeremy.

“It was all a lie, Jer. There was never a way for me to stop being the Anchor. When the Other Side goes… I go with it.” She waited. He was so silent that she was about to check if the call had dropped out - or if he’d hung up on her - when he yelled in her ear even louder than before.

“But… you told me that you could come back!”

Bonnie smiled, a crooked and broken thing. Even if she wasn’t _in love_ with Jeremy anymore, she _did_ love him. Loved that even at a time like this he was willing to trust her to tell him the truth. “If I’d told you what was really happening, you would have done everything you could to stop me from doing this, Jer.” And he would have. Jeremy would have probably taken a page out of Damon’s _Relationship Playbook_ and found a way to lock her up in the basement to stop her from helping their friends, if it meant that she wouldn’t end up dead. “We… we were happy. I didn’t want to ruin that.”

It was hard to miss the anger in his voice. “So _none_ of it was true?” Bonnie’s smile fell. “Bonnie, don’t move! Okay? I’m coming to you. Stay right there!”

Bonnie didn’t know if she could do this if Jeremy came to the cemetery. If she had to watch him, frantically looking for her as she… disappeared? She didn’t want to think too long about what exactly was going to happen to her - was going to happen to _Damon_ \- when the Other Side finally collapsed. “Jeremy, I _died_. I died the day before our graduation, and the rest of this? This extra time I got to spend with you? It’s been a gift. And I choose to be thankful that I didn’t waste a second of it.”

He was silent. Bonnie was crying now but forced herself to talk through her closed throat. She needed him to hear her. “So… take care of Elena?” 

Now Jeremy sounded like he was on the verge of tears himself. “No! Bonnie, don’t do this! Don’t you _dare_ hang up on me -”

“I love you.” 

Bonnie ended the call. She stared at the black screen of her phone through a sheen of tears and let herself feel the ache of loss. She and Jeremy had been together for such a short time, in the grand scheme of things, but they’d also been through more things than any regular couple would usually experience in a lifetime. He’d cheated on her with the ghost of his ex-girlfriend and he had been killed by Silas; Bonnie died to bring him back and became the Anchor shortly after. Honestly, Bonnie was surprised that they’d stayed together. Once she had begun to realize that what she felt for Jeremy wasn’t exactly the same anymore, she also realized that it was often easier to just stick with what was familiar.

Bonnie had been standing with her phone in her hand for what felt like no time at all but must have been much longer when Jeremy’s voice calling her name pulled her out of her trance. Bonnie looked at her phone but the screen was still black: Jeremy was actually there, looking for her. He must have run the whole way to the cemetery from town as soon as she’d hung up on him. 

The others were still gathered within the gates of the cemetery, shock paralyzing them, but Bonnie kept herself separate; she knew she didn’t have much time left and saying goodbye for the final time would be too painful. Bonnie saw Jeremy burst into the clearing, his eyes scanning until he found her. His Hunter training must have done him well; considering the distance he’d covered in such a short period of time he barely looked winded. Jeremy moved to come closer, his eyes wide with fear, but Bonnie only shook her head at him. She couldn’t say anything more to him, not without it hurting her terribly. She’d told him that she loved him and that would have to be enough.

Of course Jeremy ignored her, moving closer again to the fence of the cemetery. Before he reached her Bonnie was ripped away from the only family she’d ever really known and deposited back into the Other Side, where the wind was back to whipping her hair around her face so that it stung her skin painfully and made it even more difficult to see. Like Bonnie had noticed earlier it was getting brighter, so much so that she had to squint against it with a hand shielding her eyes. The roar of the wind was so loud that Bonnie almost didn’t notice Damon at her side until he was pressed against her. Damon was angled slightly like he was trying to block her from the worst of the wind but it was no use; it wasn’t coming from just one direction but all around them, buffeting them at all sides like it was trying to knock them off of their feet. 

Damon’s voice was surprisingly steady when he spoke, mouth close to her ear so that she was able to hear him at all. If Bonnie didn’t know that he had just spent the past however long watching as the love of his life cried for him without being able to comfort her at all, she’d think Damon was okay with all of this. “This place is going down, isn’t it?”

Bonnie nodded, her hair whipping around even more with the movement. “It is.” She turned her face so that she was looking up at him, her hair finally streaming behind her so she could see. She grinned suddenly, amused despite the circumstances that she should be here with Damon, facing the end of the world as they knew it. Damon’s eyes were focused on her mouth as she spoke like even with his vampire hearing he had to concentrate to hear her properly. “I’m sure there are a million other people we’d both rather be here with right now, but…” 

Bonnie sucked in a deep breath and reached out, her fingers skating across the width of his hand before she tucked her hand into his, palm to palm. Damon’s hand dwarfed hers, long fingers and a square palm; he laced his fingers with hers seconds later. They looked down at their joined hands and Bonnie squeezed her grip, feeling Damon squeeze back in answer straight away. It made Bonnie think of holding Enzo’s hand only an hour or so earlier. It was comforting in a way that Bonnie never would have expected contact with Damon to be. He had been so awful to her over the years, using her powers for his own gain and threatening her with violence more times than she could count. Yet standing here with his body protecting her from the ever-brightening light on the horizon and the gale-force winds, her hand held securely in his? Bonnie felt pretty safe, end of the world or not. Bonnie could both hear and see the smile in his voice when he replied, swinging their joined hands slightly, “A couple of thousand, at most.” 

The light around them had become so blinding over the last few minutes that Bonnie couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of her, the trees beginning to disappear as the Other Side appeared to consume them. She looked up at Damon again, their gazes locking. He was watching her face, no doubt seeing the fear she couldn’t help but feel written all over it. No matter how brave she’d tried to be the past few days she was terrified of what was going to come next.

This time it was Damon who squeezed her hand and Bonnie squeezed his back automatically, clearing her throat awkwardly. They were comforting each other as best they could but that didn’t mean Damon had signed up for her crying on him. Still, she had to ask the question that had been bugging her since she realized that she’d be going away with the Other Side when it finally succeeded at tearing itself in two. “Do you think it’ll hurt?” 

Damon considered the question like he hadn’t been plagued with thoughts of what was going to happen when the Other Side blinked out of existence. Bonnie realized that _of course_ Damon hadn’t: the spell was supposed to work and he should have been kissing Elena right now. There was no version of this scenario where Bonnie had planned for Damon to be dying permanently with her.

The light and wind around them seemed to surround them at once, so overwhelming to her senses that Bonnie cried out. She felt Damon’s lips brush against her ear as he responded to her question, shouting to be heard. Bonnie was amazed that she still heard him at all.

“I don’t kn -” 

The Other Side dissolved with a boom, and they were gone.


	2. suffering feels religious (if you do it right)

**damon -**

Damon’s first impression of death was that it wasn’t treating him particularly well; in short, he didn't think he was a fan. Don’t get him wrong, he wasn’t so stupid that he expected that he would end up walking through the Pearly Gates and not into the warm embrace of fire and brimstone, but the aching in his head seemed a little extreme, even by his standards. The light that had consumed him when the Other Side had finally cracked itself apart - Damon wasn’t too clear on the details of what had actually happened there - had been so bright that Damon had closed his eyes against it, and now his ears were ringing so loudly it felt like his head was going to split open. No, this was definitely Hell. Damon could only hope that Bonnie wasn’t as bad off as he was.

 _Wait._ Bonnie. 

Considering Damon wasn’t certain that he even _had_ eyes anymore - hell is just for souls, right? Damon hadn’t expected he would be allowed to keep his hot bod - it took him a minute to psych himself up enough to even try opening them. They still stung faintly from the bright flash of white light that had surrounded him and Bonnie both and it took a minute for them to adjust enough that he could actually take in the forest around him. At least there _was_ a forest around him. With the issue of sight handled, Damon looked down to his right as the god-awful ringing finally faded from his ears, replaced instead by the sound of Bonnie’s beating heart. Bonnie was also alive and well, her body curved towards Damon’s like she had expected him to protect her when the Other Side went kaboom. 

Bonnie’s hair was wild about her face and Damon thought that his probably wasn’t going to be any better; her eyes were still held tightly closed like she hadn’t yet realized that against all odds they’d somehow made it out of things fairly okay. Damon realized that he couldn’t blame her for still having her eyes shut when he hadn’t yet let go of Bonnie’s hand. When Damon chanced a look down Bonnie’s knuckles are distended with the strain of how tightly her tiny hand was gripping his and it _hurts_ in a way that Damon can’t help but feel impressed by. If he was human her grip would have surely broken at least three of his fingers; an attempt at wiggling the trapped digits leaves Damon unsure that she _hadn't_. The little witch was strong. Damon didn’t let go, just shook his hand in hers.

The movement made Bonnie sway unsteadily and he reached out to grab her, his blessedly free hand finding her shoulder and gripping tight, so they’re standing in a parody of an embrace. At the feeling of another hand on her Bonnie flinched just slightly and Damon remembered suddenly that he’d watched her do the exact same thing whenever basically anyone had touched her in the last few months, even Jeremy. Amara had been the same when she was the Anchor, yelling at everyone who went near her to not touch her; feeling all that death pass through you - painfully, too - was bound to make even the sanest person adverse to being touched. Still, Damon didn’t let go.

“Hey, you okay? Bonnie?”

Her eyes burst open, the green of them almost startling. Her pupils were minuscule at first, an after effect of the blinding light of before, but she certainly seemed alert enough. Her head spun wildly for a moment as she looked around like she was shocked that they were here at all. Damon could sympathize, considering he would have bet money on dying horribly once he realized that the Universe had thwarted his plans to ride off into the sunset with Elena once more. Eventually Bonnie’s eyes settled on him again, that little wrinkle of confusion that Damon usually loved to be the cause of appearing between her brows.

“Damon?” She sounded incredulous, which was a little insulting. 

Damon quirked a smile in her direction as he declared “the one and only,” looking over the top of her head so that he could take in their surroundings properly. By all appearances they were still in the forest that edges the cemetery, but the ominous feeling of the Other Side was gone. Damon could only assume that the supernatural purgatory was gone for good, as advertised. Still, the rest of the Scooby Gang weren’t there waiting to embrace them as returned heroes, so it stood to reason that they weren’t in Mystic Falls anymore, Toto. Or if they were, it wasn’t Mystic Falls as they knew it. Damon looked back down at Bonnie, who was still blinking in shock at the very much intact area around them. “Where do you think we are, then?”

Bonnie blinked at him for a moment, then she turned away. She hadn’t made a move to drop his hand - her bruising grip had mercifully relaxed some - and Damon was tugged along with the motion; Damon found that he was in no rush to disengage if Bonnie wasn’t. Saying goodbye to Elena while she cried brokenly over his impending perma-death was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, and he hadn’t expected to survive it. Had even hoped, just a little, that he’d die for good and never have to have the image of Elena’s anguished face seared into his memory. Yet here he was. Not dead but instead stuck here - wherever _here_ was - with Bonnie, who had realistically lost just as much as him even if he was a little dubious about her romance with Little Gilbert counting as a ‘lost romance of the ages’, even if he had come running into the cemetery yelling up a storm at the thought of his girl dying. _That_ Damon could admire. Besides that, it wasn’t Bonnie’s fault that regular people didn’t experience love the way that Damon did.

Bonnie appeared determined to get a move on, walking out of the cemetery hand in hand with Damon. Well, hand in hand would imply that Damon had a choice in the matter. It mostly felt like he was getting carted along. Bonnie started to talk over the crunch of leaves underfoot. “It looks like Mystic Falls, right? It’s more colorful than the Other Side, though…” He nodded even though she was looking away from him, marching them out from between the gravestones and back into the forest proper, vaguely in the direction of the town. She appeared to have an annoyingly good sense of direction. “Obviously there isn’t any sign of the others... just you.”

Bonnie stopped abruptly and Damon had to catch himself on her shoulder once more to stop from flattening the little witch to the floor. As amusing as that might’ve been in a different circumstance, he didn’t think she would have appreciated that very much right now. Bonnie dropped his hand suddenly and Damon let himself mourn the loss of contact before the more pressing need of straightening out his fingers made itself known; she _had_ broken at least two of his fingers. The bones cracked slightly as they realigned themselves, Damon rubbing at the offending digits with a grimace. She had one hell of a fucking grip alright, for such a tiny thing.

“How are we still alive, Damon? If that’s what this -” Bonnie waved her hands around at the forest around them. “Even _is_?” She was looking at him like he might have an answer for her, which was as flattering as it was infuriating. _Now_ wasn’t the time to think that Damon knew what was going on!

“How am I supposed to know! I was expecting to go poof and just -” he acted out a little explosion with his hands, mimicking bits of them flying everywhere, “disappear, Bonnie. You’re the one who’s supposed to be the Anchor, shouldn’t _you_ know what the fuck is going on?” 

Bonnie groaned like he was being painful and turned on her heel, striding purposefully through the forest. The dappled sunlight landed on her and Damon could have sworn it was nighttime when they’d embarked on their joy ride into the never-never, and said so. Bonnie huffed at him.

“Thanks, Damon, I hadn’t noticed.” Damon muttered something unkind about bitchy little witches under his breath and barked out a laugh when Bonnie’s head turned towards him straight away, her glare strong enough to pin him in place where he stood. There was no way she’d heard him but she obviously understood the sentiment. “Don’t be a dick. That’s how I know we’re _somewhere_ we weren’t before. We just have to find out where.”

They’d made their way onto the main road leading back into town by that point. Another ten minutes in the same direction and they’d find themselves at the Boarding House, if it was even _there_. Damon was craving a bit of familiarity right now. Wait a minute… Damon had just assumed that he was still a vampire, but what if this weird in between place had fucked around with more than they realized? Panicked, he shoved his fingers into his mouth and poked at his gums before sighing in relief. “Ah! Well, I feel fangs, so I’m still a vampire. _Thank god_.”

Bonnie snorted a laugh and Damon smiled. She hadn’t been in the best mood so far - with good reason - and it was a relief to hear her laugh, even if it was just because Damon was being an idiot. With his flair for the dramatic as well as maudlin depression when things weren’t going his way, there would probably be little chance of them making it through whatever this was by getting down in the dumps about it. This could be forever, for them. Forever was a _long time_. Damon was relatively young as far as vampires went and he could acknowledge that the notion of ‘forever’ wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be. Could they even die here? Or were they already dead, and this was just a different type of holding place to the Other Side?

They hadn’t stopped walking and had made it into the inner boundaries of the town, so it wasn’t insignificant that he was still a vampire like he had just confirmed and not writhing on the ground with a long-healed bullet hole gushing blood from his chest courtesy of Daddy Dearest. Damon paused in the middle of the road and assessed how he felt; fine, considering. Bonnie stopped walking when she presumably couldn’t hear Damon following her anymore, turning to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “So either I’m a dead vampire, or Mystic Falls is no longer magic free?” 

Maybe the Travelers spell to rid the world of magic had died with them? Somehow Damon didn’t think things would be that easy, though. Bonnie only confirmed that when she froze in her assessment of the street around them. “Look, Damon.” 

He followed her gaze to where the Mystic Grill stood hale and hearty, missing the huge hole in its side from where Damon had driven the Camaro through it with Elena. What the hell? The irony of the question wasn’t lost on Damon. None of this made sense. He was dead but he _wasn’t_ just like he was in Mystic Falls but not as he knew it. Even the slats of wood that had been used to board up the windows when the town had been evacuated were gone; it was like the last few weeks hadn’t happened at all. Damon squinted at the Grill. “I _definitely_ blew that up about an hour ago.”

“Where is everyone?” Her voice shook a little with her panic and her heart was racing. “Even when we were on the Other Side we could still see the living, Damon! This place is _empty_.”

Damon stepped forward so that he was close enough to Bonnie that their shoulders brushed. It seemed a bit early in the piece to freak out so completely that he grabbed her hand again, but he acknowledged that the urge was there, strange as it was. Damon couldn’t recall ever wanting to be so close to Bonnie before. “Where the hell are we?” He spun in a circle, knocking against Bonnie’s almost creepily still body as he did. “And I don’t mean geographically. The Other Side definitely… blew up? I’m still not clear on that, actually.”

Bonnie just stared at the town that they’d called home for so many years yet which now looked and felt so foreign to them both. Her heartbeat hadn’t slowed down any and the sound of it filled Damon’s ears. Her voice was marginally steadier when she spoke again and Damon liked to think that his strange instinct to touch her had helped a little. _He_ felt more settled. “I have no idea where we are.” 

Damon watched Bonnie look around. He wondered if she was expecting Elena to come bursting out of the miraculously whole Grill like he was; to run into Damon’s arms and embrace him, to exclaim her joy at his being alive. More likely Bonnie was hoping Little Gilbert would appear and run to her, but Damon guessed that the sentiment was the same. There was no use standing here waiting for life to get with the program around them, so he started walking in the direction of the Boarding House and the familiarity he could find there, trusting Bonnie to follow him. At least Markos wouldn’t be lying on Damon’s priceless furniture anymore.

Snapping out of her trance Bonnie hurried to catch up, bumping against him when she finally matched his longer stride. Damon didn’t shift away because he could understand why she wanted to stay so close; the quietness of the town must have been disturbing to her human hearing, but it was downright _creepy_ to him. Damon was so used to being able to hear everything - too much, a lot of the time - and the silence was throwing him off. Every twig or leaf they stood on made a sound as loud as a gunshot, until they were both flinching at every little noise. Eventually Damon gave in to what his senses wanted and he settled his hearing on Bonnie’s heartbeat, the constant and unchanging sound of it calming his nerves somewhat. 

Over the years Damon had somehow come to the realization that witches always had a distinct type of heartbeat and Bonnie’s was no different: her heart beat steady and strong, fluttering occasionally when Damon assumed she let herself panic about their situation a little as they moved through the town and past buildings that would ordinarily be full of people and conversation. 

If listening to her heartbeat was going to settle Damon despite the antagonism of their past interactions, he resolved to not think about the _why_ of it so much. It was looking like they were going to be all the other had while they were in this place. If Bonnie could find some small semblance of reassurance and comfort in Damon standing close, he should be allowed to find the same in listening to such a sure sign of life within her. He was willing to admit it distracted him from the strangeness of the lack of animal noise around them. Sure, there weren’t any people as far as either of them could see. But Damon was yet to see a bird fly overhead or a squirrel dart up the trunk of a tree as they walked past. It was disturbing.

As they walked further out of the town proper and out towards the suburbs the sun rose higher in the sky, the heat becoming stifling in no time at all. That was strange in itself considering it had been autumn in _their_ Mystic Falls. It felt like summer in this place, the smell of baking asphalt filling Damon’s nostrils. Damon took off his leather jacket and draped it over his arm. Though she’d likely never admit to Damon having anything resembling a good idea, Bonnie took her own jacket off shortly after and tied it around her waist. Damon tried not to stare too obviously at her neck but the last thing he’d sunk his fangs into had been a blood bag a day and a half before. That would hold him over but Damon didn’t know for how much longer. It wasn’t like he’d made a go of testing himself, before.

No, it was obvious that sooner rather than later he was going to have to find himself a meal in this place or things were going to get real awkward between him and Bonnie. Damon might be a dick but he wasn’t going to let himself lunge for her jugular as soon as he became hungry enough. Yet even when he stretched his enhanced senses to their limits he couldn’t smell or hear another living thing besides Bonnie; there weren’t any animals running around this place. Damon guessed that it was just another charming feature of this fucking… mirror world, or whatever. 

Bonnie had swung a left off course at some point and Damon had sighed and followed her, but they’d been walking around seemingly aimlessly for at least an hour now and he was _hot_ , okay? Not to mention that being hungry made him irritable. “How many more streets are we gonna wander?”

Bonnie sighed gustily behind him, having let herself drop back from practically walking hip to hip some ten minutes earlier when Damon started his - and he could admit this - whining. “You’ve asked me that already, you dick. I didn’t have an answer for you the first time and I don’t now!”

Okay, so maybe Damon had asked the same question three times already. Annoying Bonnie was one of his favorite pastimes, sue him! Damon rolled his eyes and kept walking, noticing almost immediately when Bonnie stopped because he was focused on her heartbeat so closely. It was like an invisible string tugging at him, by this stage. The only other heartbeat he’d ever been this attuned to before Bonnie’s was Elena’s. It was probably just a consequence of Bonnie’s heartbeat being the _only_ thing he could really focus on, right now. When it became obvious that Bonnie had no intention of moving from where she’d stopped, Damon turned to look at her. She was staring at the car they were stopped beside, the furrow she always got when she was confused present between her brows.

“There’s something weird about these cars…” 

Damon had noticed that some five minutes ago but hadn’t wanted to think too hard about what it might mean; this entire situation was too weird already and maybe he had been imagining it. If Bonnie had noticed it too… “Yeah, they’re all almost twenty years old, if not more, but they all look brand new.”

He dragged his hand along the fender of a Porsche that hadn’t been in circulation for decades. It, like all of the cars around them, was in mint condition. So clean he could see his face in the paint. He could also see the house it was parked in front of reflected on the hood. Damon felt his breath catch as he looked up. 

“And that? That’s Elena’s house… funny, considering that last time I saw it it was burnt to a crisp with Little Gilbert inside.” Not to say anything about the kids toys in the front yard, soccer balls and ride-on ponies lying everywhere. There was a rolled up newspaper resting on the manicured grass, like someone had just been around for the morning paper run. Maybe Damon could eat _them_? He’d keep an ear out. For now, he picked up the newspaper and rolled it out, eyes automatically flicking up to the date. Damon stared as his heart migrated to his stomach.

Turning to hold the paper out towards Bonnie, who’d been staring at Elena’s house like she had seen a ghost - Damon would have been doing the same except now he was too freaked out - and he helpfully rested his pointer finger against the date. “Look.”

Bonnie moved forward, squinting. Did the witch need glasses? Damon would need to remember to make fun of her for that later. “Rare solar eclipse expected to be seen across twelve states… so, Damon?” 

Damon rolled his eyes and shook the newspaper, tapping his finger aggressively against the script he wanted her to read. “The _date_ , Bonnie!”

She narrowed her eyes at his tone but visibly decided against giving him shit for it, looking at the date instead. Damon could both see and hear the panic flooding Bonnie as her eyes widened, her heart beginning to pound doubletime. Bonnie’s eyes darted from the date on the paper to Damon and back again, like she was waiting for him to yell “gotcha!” and say that it was all some big joke and they weren’t actually _twenty years in the past_. Only Damon wasn’t playing any joke. Having it played on _him_ , maybe. 

“May tenth, 1994… is that - are we - Damon, that’s impossible!” Bonnie was yelling loud enough to wake a city block - if there had been anyone else in this place - and Damon let her, because it’s what _he_ wanted to be doing. Just when he thought their lives couldn’t possibly get more fucked up, the Universe just had to go and pull this shit. 

Damon didn’t get a chance to reply before the sky grew dark so suddenly that they both instinctually looked to the sky, Bonnie stepping up so close behind Damon that he could feel the warmth of her body through his shirt. The moon was passing across the sun high in the sky, the eclipse that the newspaper mentioned happening right before their eyes. It became hard to deny what was right in front of them, in technicolor; they were in 1994, whether they liked it or not.

“Well fuck.” Bonnie swatted at the exposed skin of his arm, the spot smarting for a second before the feeling disappeared. “Hey! Don’t slap the messenger, I’m just keeping us both informed!” The eclipse only lasted for a few more moments before the moon moved away from the sun once more, the heat of summer just as oppressive as it had been for the past few hours. It was like the eclipse had never happened at all. 

Damon looked back to Elena’s house and only hesitated for a moment before he walked up the quaint little path to what had been Elena’s front porch before she’d set the house alight in her grief. It was surreal to see the house unmarred by fire; Damon found himself remembering the first kiss he’d shared with Elena in this exact spot before the ache in his chest became too painful and he made himself think of something else, _anything_ else. The hinges of the porch swing screeched horribly when he collapsed back onto the seat.

Things weren’t going at all how Damon had expected they would. He wasn’t in a million pieces floating through the cosmos after the explosion of supernatural purgatory, which was definitely a point in the ‘win’ column. That being said, Damon didn’t really know where to rank ‘trapped in one of the worst years of his life with a witch he had barely begun to tolerate for longer than five minutes for the foreseeable future’ just yet. Fuck, he needed a drink. 

“I wonder if there’s any booze in this empty Retroville?” He swung himself backwards and forth, the hinges of the seat continuing to squeak underneath his weight. Bonnie had followed him towards the house and she was reclining on the porch steps; she tipped her head back to look at him at the sound of his voice. She ignored his question, which was rude but unexpected.

“It’s so weird being back here… I practically grew up on this porch, you know?” Bonnie smiled faintly as she looked around at the toys strewn around them, like she was remembering running around with little versions of Elena and Caroline, a lifetime ago. Damon wasn’t in the mood to reminisce just now; he hadn’t recovered from the assault of remembering kissing Elena for the first time yet. At least he had an easy way to change the topic: what exactly was going on in this place.

He cleared his throat. “Alright, talk me through it.”

In that way she’d always had, Bonnie didn’t have to ask him to elaborate because she knew he was talking about how they’d gotten to this place and how exactly they were going to get out. When they were at the height of their antagonism towards each other it had expedited their conversations which Damon had always appreciated, even if he had worried that she could read minds when they’d first met. Bonnie could only ever guess what _he_ was thinking so Damon had chalked it up to luck and resolved not to think about it again.

“Just before the Other Side collapsed, my Grams said that she made a sacrifice so that I could find peace...” 

Okay, maybe Bonnie _didn’t_ know what Damon was getting at, if she was throwing this seemingly useless information at him. “No, Bonnie, the part where you have a _theory_.” A theory for how they ended up here, in 1994. _Together_. Bonnie bared her teeth at him in an exaggerated smile like she thought he was just _so funny, oh my god_ and Damon thought, not for the first time, that she would make an excellent vampire. Best to never share that with her; she’d probably stake him for the insult.

“Well, _this_ clearly isn’t peace. If it were, I wouldn’t be stuck here with you.” She smirked at him, and Damon huffed out a laugh.

“ _Mean_.”

Bonnie grinned properly this time, though she was looking pensively out at the yard. They sat in silence for a minute or two before she spoke again. “My Grams must have sent me somewhere she thought I’d be able to find peace. I guess you got to hitchhike along because we were holding hands.” Bonnie’s heartbeat did something funky that Damon chose to ignore.

Jesus, magic was so handwavey; Damon hated it. He took his arms off the back of the seat and slumped forward, palms open like _give me something, here_. “Did your Grams happen to whisper a safeword in your ear with her last breaths? A clue, maybe? A witchy path out of here?”

Bonnie stood and Damon lifted his eyes to hers as she turned to face him. “No… but if we got here because of magic, magic should be able to get us out.” 

Damon had figured as much, but there was one obvious problem that neither of them had addressed yet. Bonnie frowned but didn’t say anything, clearly intending to make Damon ask outright what was wrong. “Is there a reason why that frown isn’t upside down?”

She ignored him. Instead, Bonnie turned her head to look at one of the decorative candles that were scattered artfully across the porch furniture. She squinted at it for a moment and then took in a deep breath, lifting her hand like Damon had seen her do so many times before. “ _Incendia._ ” 

They both watched the candle. Nothing happened. No flame, no wisp of smoke… bupkis. Bonnie’s shoulders slumped with disappointment and Damon fell back against the seat, sending it swinging once more. 

“That answers that then. You still can’t do magic. _Great._ ” 

Clearly they’d both thought that if they were here, wherever or _whenever_ this was, and she wasn’t the Anchor to the destroyed Other Side anymore, that she might be able to do magic again. That Bonnie might be as she _should_ be once more; a fully-fledged Bennett witch. No such luck. There didn’t seem to be a lot of that going around, these days.

Damon heaved himself off the still swinging seat and clattered down the stairs loudly in his boots, making his way down the path before hanging a right and heading for home. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Bonnie moving slowly to follow him, her feet dragging like the misery of their situation was starting to sink in. Her theory that magic would get them back to where they wanted to be was a good one, but it wasn’t one that yielded immediate solutions. Damon wasn’t mad, though. Bonnie was nothing if not resourceful. He might have been openly judgemental about her magical abilities in the past - largely because it was so fun to rile her up - but he knew that she’d work at the problem until she found her magic and their way out of here. Damon had faith.

Damon looked back at the road ahead and let her heartbeat thumping at his back reassure him that she was following. 

\--

They continued on like that for an hour or two; when Damon tried to check the time on his phone the screen wouldn’t even light up and he hasn’t worn a watch since the cars parked on the street were actually driving around. If he were to hazard a guess at the time from the position of the sun and his urge to get out from underneath it, he’d put it sometime in the early afternoon.

The air was just muggy enough that Damon’s clothes were doing their best to stick to his skin and Damon had given up on fanning himself; he’d pay real money to not bearing his boots right now. He’s faintly sweaty in a way that he doesn’t enjoy at all and Bonnie isn’t any better. If nothing else it was an easy way for Damon to keep track of her presence behind him, beyond the sound of her feet on the ground and her heartbeat in his ears. Actually, speaking off… Damon turned on his heel and was met with the empty expanse of road behind him but no Bonnie. 

He hadn’t heard a scuffle - who would there be to scuffle _with_? - so she must have just wandered off while he was feeling vaguely sorry for himself and the state of this whole situation they’d found themselves trapped in. Damon walked back about ten feet before he picked up her heartbeat, hummingbird fast. It was coming from the direction of a house to his right; a house not entirely dissimilar to Elena’s, if only a little smaller. It looked more lived in than the manicured exterior of Elena’s house and the dark green door was hanging open. Damon walked to the threshold and tested for the usual barrier barring his entry with the toe of his boot. He paused and waited for the strange just-kicked-a-brick feeling of trying to enter a home he hadn’t been invited into and found nothing. Suddenly this place didn’t seem quite so bad.

Once he’s stepped over the threshold it’s easy to follow the sound of Bonnie’s heartbeat towards the back of the house to find her inside a small bedroom, decorated in a charming purple paint with a child’s bed at its centre. Bonnie was standing in the middle of the room, a teddy bear clutched in her hands. When Damon glanced at her face it was blank, her eyes unfocused like she wasn’t really in the room with him.

“Bonnie?” There was no need to raise his voice so Damon didn’t; it was so deathly quiet in this place that there was no way that Bonnie wouldn’t be able to hear him, even if he whispered.

In the end it didn’t matter because Bonnie showed no sign of having heard him. Though Damon was able to pass through the front door without issue, he still hesitated to pass over the threshold and into Bonnie’s room with her. It would take no effort at all but Damon can’t help feeling like it would be intrusive to disturb whatever emotions Bonnie was feeling. Lost in remembering her childhood in this house and in this room, probably, if Damon was reading things correctly. 

Damon said her name again, slightly louder this time. Bonnie showed no sign of coming out of her trance and so the decision was made for Damon, boot-clad feet carrying him into the room and to her side. Damon reached out a hand to graze his fingers along Bonnie’s elbow and she startled sharply, her grip on the teddy slackening so that it dropped at their feet. 

“God, Damon!” 

He bent down to pick up the teddy, holding its soft head underneath his own when he rose back up to stand. He spread its little bear arms wide in supplication. In an exaggeratedly silly voice befitting of a stuffed toy he said, “My apologies, Miss Bennett, I didn’t mean to startle you!” 

Bonnie looked like she was finally with it again when she snatched the teddy back from his hands, a small smile quirking the preternaturally upturned corner of her mouth. “You’re an idiot.”

Damon put his hand beside his mouth and said lowly, like he was sharing a secret, “and if I agree with you, there’s no one here to see!” 

That got a laugh out of Bonnie, which was its own little reward. Damon was beginning to think that this new world was going to be meted out in small pleasures. Annoying Bonnie and then trying to balance it out by getting her to laugh was something that Damon had always found enjoyment in anyway, and his batting average for the second part seemed to be improving. Damon walked around her bedroom, half to look at what there was to see and half to give the witch - or not-witch, as it stood currently - her space to regroup. He could hear her heart hammering away; Damon actually _had_ managed to startle her. 

The room was charming, as far as kid’s bedroom went. The only defining feature of Damon’s childhood bedroom had been the bed too small for an adult at its centre. Bonnie’s room was immediately different; books littered almost every available surface, and arts and crafts projects of varying skill levels were tacked to the walls. The room was colorful and bright; a happy room for a mostly happy child. Damon made to sit on the pressed sheets of the bed but a pointed glance from Bonnie staid him, not that he’d ever let on that that was an ability she possessed. The second look he received when he went to lean casually against the wall instead suggested that she already knew. _Witches_. 

Bonnie watched him wander around her room with the teddy in her arms. Damon had the sudden realization that she’d been seventeen when he’d met her - older than Elena and Caroline’s sixteen - and she was almost twenty now, if Damon was remembering her birthday correctly. It was easy to forget sometimes that he and Stefan had watched these girls grow up into fierce and strong women; seeing her clutching a children’s toy really illustrated the difference. His mouth opened without his permission. “What made you come here?”

Damon hadn’t meant to startle her the first time he spoke and he hadn’t meant to startle her this time either but Bonnie flinched again anyway, her bright green eyes darting to meet Damon’s own. She shook her head and smiled in a way that seemed self-deprecating. 

“I don’t know…” Bonnie walked over to the bed and sat down, the sheets crinkling underneath her weight. She kept her eyes on him. “I knew they wouldn’t be here. I mean, I knew that. I just wanted to see…” Something about the almost reverent tone of her voice as she talked about the parents she’d lost made Damon reluctant to interrupt, so he just watched her. He waited a minute, then a minute longer, just watching Bonnie sit there consumed by her thoughts. In this place, they had nothing but time. “My mom hadn’t left, in 1994. Her stuff is still in their room and it - her clothes still smell like her, somehow.”

When Bonnie cut herself off the second time Damon knew and understood why she wouldn’t continue: it was too hard to remember people they’d never see again. It was how he felt whenever he let himself think about Elena for more than a moment, like he was poking at a wound that wasn’t even close to healed. Something red and puffy and painful. Thinking of Elena out there, in the real world, maybe mourning him or missing him or, the worst thought, not missing him at all? It was too much to bear. Or it was too much to bear without bourbon, at least. It couldn’t be any easier for Bonnie to think of her parents, with her father murdered right in front of her and her mother far enough away that it felt like a loss. 

“You could wear them. Her clothes, I mean.”

Damon didn’t even realize that he’d spoken, at first. He certainly hadn’t _planned_ on saying anything. He tried to school his expression into one of confidence instead of confusion at what he’d said as Bonnie stared at him like he’d grown a second head. A valid reaction, really. After a tense minute in which Damon felt like a dead butterfly pinned to a wall, Bonnie’s eyes moved to the doorway of her room and across the hallway into what must be her parent’s room, like she was actually considering the plausibility of what Damon had said. There was a first time for everything.

With a nonchalant hand Damon waved at the clothes that Bonnie was currently wearing. The slinky tank top was great, he couldn’t deny, but he doubted that the fitted grey jeans and heeled boots were doing much for Bonnie in this unexpected summer heat. “I bet your mom has more appropriate clothes for this weather… you’ll cook, otherwise. We don’t know how long we’re gonna be stuck here for.” 

Bonnie _hmmed_ and thought about it for a few more minutes before obviously finding her resolve, shoving her teddy bear in his direction as she walked across the hall into the bedroom opposite her own. The sound of cupboards opening and closing followed, the smell of faint perfume and dust drifting into Damon’s nose shortly after. After Bonnie’s words the air in her room felt heavy with memories and melancholy and Damon… he wasn't _uncomfortable_ , but he was still himself. That meant that he wanted to try and dissipate the strange feeling anyway he could.

There was no doubt that Bonnie would be able to hear him but Damon raised his voice for effect as he yelled, “Besides, if I’m remembering correctly, your mom was a fox!”

The indignant shout of his name that immediately followed the statement made him laugh properly, a roll of genuine mirth rolling through him. There were few things in life more amusing than riling up a witch and Damon knew that from experience. It didn’t matter that it occasionally landed him crippled over in pain as an aneurysm or forty ripped through his brain, and while Bonnie didn’t have her magic he intended to make light fun of her wherever he could without it resulting in injury. Damon pulled a face at the teddy he was still holding for some reason and continued giggling. The sound of a zipper cut Damon’s giggling off pretty quickly and he poked his head out of the doorway of Bonnie’s room only to suck it back in like a turtle when he almost lost an eye to a _very_ pointy shoe. “Hey!”

“No peeking, you perv!” 

While Damon might have developed a shiny new skill of being able to follow Bonnie around based on her heartbeat alone the little witch had always had an innate talent for knowing when he was misbehaving. It was as maddening as it was fun and Damon could admit that to himself; the laughter he could hear in Bonnie’s voice told him all he needed to know how much she enjoyed their banter. He didn’t have to wait much longer for the reveal, Bonnie walking out of her parent’s room to twirl in front of him with a flourish. It was too loud in the hallway when Damon put his fingers in his mouth to wolf-whistle at her yet he did it anyway for the way Bonnie scrunched her nose up at him in what looked like half disgust, half pleasure.

She could complain all she wanted. The tight black denim shorts and loose white jumper looked great on her, and Damon made sure to leer obnoxiously so that Bonnie moved forward and whacked him on the arm. It was almost hard enough to hurt and Damon darted away, laughing again. The motion drew his attention out the window to see that the sun had shifted lower in the sky while they’d been inside reminiscing about the past and horsing around. The passage of time was only emphasized by the sound of Bonnie’s stomach rumbling with hunger. Bonnie put a hand to her stomach and stopped trying to whack him, which Damon was thankful for.

He pointed a finger at her stomach. “When we get to the Boarding House I can do something about that, come on,” and he turned on his heel and headed for the front door. It was obvious pretty quickly that Bonnie had made no move to follow him and Damon should have guessed how this was going to play out sooner. He didn’t turn around. “You want to stay.” 

Bonnie huffed a sigh from behind Damon and he could just imagine her standing there with her hands on her hips, midway through an epic eye roll. “Why wouldn’t I stay here, Damon? It’s my house! I checked the kitchen when I came in and there’s food, anyway.” 

He knew looking heavenward wouldn’t get him anywhere so he didn’t bother. If the witch wanted to be stubborn - and he could hear in her voice that she wasn’t going to budge - he was going to let her. They had an eternity here to look forward together, most likely. They didn’t need to spend it in each other’s pockets. Hell, a little distance would probably serve as a helpful reminder that they don’t actually like each other! Damon let his feet carry him through the house and out the front door, a faint feeling of hurt following him that he worked his damndest to ignore. He threw a hand up and over his shoulder, an annoyed cousin of a wave. “Fine! You know where I’ll be.” 

Bonnie called out to him once, but her heartbeat didn’t move closer. Damon could feel her eyes on his back, though, as he walked down the path at the front of her house and back onto the street. Damon knew he was being childish yet he didn’t care. He was beginning to think that he and Bonnie were actually far more similar than they had first thought: Damon wasn’t looking forward to staying at the Boarding House by himself and he had grave doubts about how much the little witch was going to enjoy being surrounded by complete silence and not much else, here by herself.

Damon didn’t know what he was listening for until he was three houses down the street and Bonnie’s front door finally closed, like she was hesitant to close herself off from him. Or maybe Damon was just being dramatic and overstating his importance in her life, which he had a bad habit of doing. It usually led to hurt feelings on his end. 

He’d made it to the next block already and Bonnie’s heartbeat was quieter in his ears now, just the faintest sound that he had to work to pick up. Even so, Damon’s hearing didn’t usually extend so far, vampire or not. Damon would have been more weirded out by it if there were other people in this place. But he and Bonnie were the only ones here, so it made sense that he could hear her heartbeat from a greater distance than he would normally be able to manage. It was just his body’s natural instincts in overdrive because there were so few prey animals around.

Proving his own point, as he got further from Bonnie’s house her heartbeat became fainter and fainter until he couldn’t hear it at all. Damon hesitated in the road for only a moment before he made himself press forward towards the Boarding House. Away from the town as it was, it would be even quieter there than anywhere else he could have stayed. Bonnie could be stubborn if she wanted. Damon would make pancakes and drink the bourbon he’d enjoyed last year with Ric when he’d sat dying in the Salvatore Crypt. Back in the 90s he’d installed a truly ridiculous sound system in the kitchen for some reason - to annoy Stefan, no doubt - so he could dance the night away. He’d have fun, just watch him!

\--

It took Damon fives minutes of being back within the walls of the Boarding House to remember that he despised being alone and always had. Damon wouldn’t wish Markos back and lounging on the furniture, but the noise of other living beings - he’d take _animals_ , right now - wouldn’t be awful. 

His hatred of being on his own, and the loneliness that came with it, had begun for Damon as a child. Being a Founding Family meant that his father was often busy away from the house - they were all three happy for it - and his mother was amused by her society friends, or whatever else women of that time did to pass the days. It meant that he and Stefan were left to their own devices, coming up with games to play both inside and outside. The game that they played most often was hide and seek.

Stefan was excellent at it in the same way he could do no wrong back then. For hours he would hide, quiet as a mouse, lying in wait for Damon to find him. Damon estimated that in the years they played the game he only found Stefan five times, either through sheer dumb luck or by virtue of literally tripping over him, like the time Damon had taken so long in finding Stefan that his younger brother had fallen asleep underneath the staircase with a leg sticking out. So what should have been a fun game between brothers instead taught Damon what it was like to be alone and searching for someone always. Being so completely alone had meant that Damon had begun to think too loudly, his inner musings critical in a tone that reminded Damon far too much of his father. 

Call it what you will, but it meant that Damon had actively been avoiding being by himself for upwards of one hundred and eighty years. Usually Damon would have no issue achieving this; despite his quote-unquote bad behaviour Damon had no shortage of friends, compelled or otherwise, who were happy to keep him company or his bed warm. Even when he’d been locked up by those Augustine assholes, he’d had Enzo for company. Being alone in this place with only Bonnie was bad enough, but Bonnie wanting to stay apart? Damon could feel himself starting to crawl up the walls already and he hadn’t been alone for more than half an hour. He was hopeless.

Damon vampire-dashed up to his room and threw open the windows, the shutters clattering noisily. Any noise right now was welcome. He hadn’t spent a lot of time at the house in the 90s and his room smelled musty and dead, which he realized was ironic, considering. With his vampire speed it took no time at all to strip the sheets off of the bed and make it up fresh; once the outside air had filtered in, his room would feel and smell a whole lot better. Walking out into the hall, Damon eyed the room next to his. No one has ever stayed in it before but the bed stands made, hospital corners and fluffed pillows. Damon hesitated in the doorway. How long was Bonnie expecting this little protest stay at her house to last?

 _Protest_ seems too harsh of a word. Wanting the comforts of her family home before her mom pulled the plug and ditched them is understandable and Damon shouldn’t be judging her for it. After all, Damon had definitely sought out the comforts of his own family more times than he could count on one hand over the years, even when Stefan would have been much happier not to see him most of the time. Still, Damon didn’t think he was jumping the gun when he gave this room the same treatment he’d given his own. Bonnie undoubtedly had a stronger sense of resolve than Damon, but she’d get lonely too eventually. Damon was sure of it. When she did she’d at least be able to enjoy fresh sheets.

‘Chores’ handled, Damon whooshed himself downstairs to the basement. Uncle Zach had lived at the Boarding House during the 90s; Stefan had even had the house signed over to him, which had been annoying as fuck at the time. Damon had thought that he might have had trouble getting inside now because of that but it had been just like walking into Bonnie’s house earlier, no resistance at all. Things would have gotten really awkward if Damon had had to turn tail and go right back to Bonnie and beg her to let him stay at her house. 

His purpose for going down to the basement had him a little apprehensive. Considering that Stefan was also on his gross, vegan, bunnies-only diet during the 90s, it was a long shot to hope that the giant cooler down there was going to have any blood bags in it. Stefan had never been able to stay clean when there was temptation nearby. Still, Damon let himself hope. It was maybe not the end of the world if the cooler was empty - he could think of at least two hospitals in running distance that would probably have blood bags on hand - but it would definitely be easier to have a stash so closeby. He unlatched the lock and held his breath, covering his eyes with one hand for good measure as well as a dramatic reveal. Damon threw the lid open and held his breath for one second, two, before he peeked through his fingers and saw exactly what he’d feared: the cooler was completely empty.

“Aw, fuck.” 

His voice echoed, the sound mocking him. Damon slammed the cooler closed. While the cooler being empty had made a shitty situation even shittier, there was nothing that Damon could do about it right that second. Damon could feel that he was peckish; the thought of sinking his fangs into a warm neck and just _drinking_ was enough to bring out the thick veins underneath his eyes, a rippling sensation that faintly tickled. If he were Stefan in this situation he’d go and work out for a nauseating amount of time until the burn of his muscles was enough to distract him from the thought of blood… but considering he wasn’t a sad sack killjoy, Damon went for the liquor. 

If they were really in 1994, everything should be where it had been back then… sure enough, Damon found the bottle of bourbon he’d drunk with Ric last year and broke the seal, taking a swig. It burned for a moment before settling pleasant and warm in his stomach like he remembered, with the added bonus that he wasn’t watching his best friend die in slow motion this time. That was one thought that buoyed Damon right now: Alaric was alive.

Drink in hand - _bottle_ in hand - Damon wandered around the house, sipping as he went. There was nothing to _do_ and Damon found himself missing the little witch. At this point they were reluctant allies at best; considering what Damon had done to her in the not so distant past, they had a ways to go before he thought she’d ever consider them as anything else. Just because their situation had thrown them together didn’t mean they were going to be making each other best friends bracelets any time soon. What Bonnie needed to realise was that Damon had practically invented the long con, not that he wanted to _con_ her. Ever since Damon had finally realised just how far Bonnie was willing to go for the ones she loved, he’d admired her. Wanted to make things right between them, show her that they weren’t so different. No, Damon was sure that he could win Bonnie over; if nothing else, their banter could act as a seamless segway into friendship. Damon’s plans always seemed simpler in his head.

As he walked around the Boarding House, peering into the rooms to see what was there and what wasn’t, Damon reasoned with himself that he’d certainly have enough opportunities to get on Bonnie’s good side. They were trapped here together, after all, wherever _here_ was. There would be time - _plenty_ of time - and Damon had experience changing how the women in his life saw him for the better. Damon took a hearty swig of the bourbon and coughed once, wiping at his mouth with his wrist. 

Thinking of Elena… that way lay madness. Yet it was impossible _not_ to think of her and how much he loved her, and how much he already missed her even though it hadn’t been a day. They were only just finding their feet again when the Travelers had rolled into town and fucked everything up. Damon could still feel her mouth against his as she kissed him for the final time, could see the warmth in her eyes as she told him that she’d had a bad day and she’d needed it. That she’d needed _him_. 

There was no denying that they weren’t good for each other but Damon had been so relieved that Elena had decided that ultimately, she didn’t care. Even though they brought out the worst in each other - Elena made Damon possessive to the point of being irrational, and Damon could admit that Elena was far more willing to look the other way when people were getting hurt than she had been when they’d first met - they also brought out the best in each other. Elena had wanted to be with him anyway and Damon had been on cloud nine.

Damon should have never put the responsibility to making him a better person on Elena’s shoulders. It was unfair and it was selfish, but he’d done it anyway. He was more than aware of his faults and a large one was that he had a tendency to go off the rails when things didn’t go his way; Damon was a violence _now_ , questions never type of person. Elena had tamed that notion in him somewhat but his behaviours had darkened her in turn, making her more irritable and aggressive. Damon wasn’t proud of it. But they’d been _good_ together, hadn’t they? Hadn’t they evened each other out? He knew that Elena didn’t enjoy how single-mindedly focused she’d become on Damon, the way it made her put him in front of her friends... Damon didn’t like to remember the summer they’d spent sleeping together instead of looking for Stefan.

God, he was going to drive himself insane if he kept thinking this way. _This_ is why he couldn’t be left alone. Too much silence had always meant that Damon started to go over everything he’d done wrong in his life, every person that he’d hurt; all the reasons why every person in his life could possibly detest him. He became prone to going over all the people he’d killed since becoming a vampire, and all the ones he regretted. The list wasn’t short even if it wasn’t quite Ripper Stefan long, something that only brought a small comfort. 

Damon thought that going over his Greatest Hits was hurting him so much this time - a glance at the bottle of bourbon showed that it was near to empty - because he couldn’t do anything about it, not anymore. He couldn’t show people that he was trying to be a better and more rational person. Someone who would only resort to violence when it was absolutely necessary instead of whenever he decided it suited him; that he was a person capable of thinking things through instead of acting impulsively. 

The only person he had to prove himself to these days was Bonnie. As he walked past the room that had been Uncle Zach’s in 1994, door closed tight against the memories contained within, Damon knew that changing how Bonnie viewed him was going to be an uphill battle. Damon didn’t think it was a coincidence that they’d landed in 1994… if there was a hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if this turned out to be his. It was just a shame that he’d dragged Bonnie along for the ride.

Even thinking about how he had sullied perfect Elena Gilbert was easier than thinking about _that_ , and Damon made his way into his bedroom and threw himself down on his bed, waving at the puff of dust that erupted around him as a result. His mattress in 1994 wasn’t as forgiving on his back as the pillowy excellence he was used to now but it would have to do. The sky outside of his windows was mostly dark now; hours passed wandering around the Boarding House and feeling miserable

Vampires might not need sleep but Damon sure as hell wanted to be unconscious right then, and with a belly full of bourbon he was well on his way to sloshed. That’d help things along some. Clunking the now empty bottle of bourbon on his nightstand, Damon lay back and closed his eyes, praying a little desperately for sleep. Anything to shut off his whirling thoughts. He could make the pancakes he’d promised himself in the morning.

\--

Damon dreamt of a dark room. It was entirely devoid of light and sound but it felt oppressive, like it was a force pressing down on him from all sides. He couldn’t shout for help or move. Just when he thought it couldn’t possibly get worse, the darkness evaporated to reveal Elena crumpled on the forest floor. She was sobbing, her shoulders shaking with it, brokenly calling his name. When Damon tried to move closer to her he couldn’t and his voice was no more than a whisper of air; she would never hear him. 

To wake up gasping for air was a relief.

The thought of never seeing Elena again made Damon’s _bones_ ache but seeing her in his dreams like that? Damon would rather give up sleep forever than subject himself to watching Elena’s heartbreak without ever being able to comfort her, to _hold_ her, one last time. Saying goodbye to her before the Other Side had destroyed itself without being able to touch her was bad enough, he didn’t need to dream about it too.

The pounding of his heart inside of his chest was near to painful and Damon shook himself in an effort to shake free the last vestiges of the nightmare, wincing at the smell of bourbon wafting off of his entire body. He’d need to have a shower before he went to fetch Bonnie or she’d call him a soak and give him one of her patented judgy glares. Maybe he’d even wait to start drinking again until noon… that would be responsible of him. Bonnie would certainly appreciate his restraint.

The first rays of sun were just beginning to peak over the horizon as Damon wandered out of his bathroom, a cloud of steam following him. Jeans on, he had only just finished pulling on a grey Henley when the sound of something - someone? - outside made him freeze, head tilted in an effort to hear better. The front door crashed open moments later, the panicked beating of a heart finding Damon’s ears almost immediately. He knew it was Bonnie before she called his name, her voice shaky with fear.

“Damon!” 

Damon ran down the stairs to meet her so quickly that his forward momentum when he stopped in front of her almost sent them both sprawling onto the Persian rug at their feet. Bonnie instinctually jumped back at his sudden appearance; Damon barely caught her with one hand around one of her elbows and the other against the hammering pulse in her neck. Damon tightened his grip in anticipation of Bonnie flinching away from him in the same way that he’d noticed her flinching away from _everyone_ , but she was already relaxing. Bonnie closed her eyes and breathed in, unsteady, and Damon was left to quietly freak out that Bonnie Bennett apparently found his mere presence comforting. Maybe pigs flew in this place, after all? Damon forced himself to focus on the situation at hand.

“What happened?” Damon leant back, looking over Bonnie as quickly and thoroughly as he could without being inappropriate. “Are you hurt? Bonnie, talk to me!” One thing that Damon can rule out for sure is that Bonnie wasn’t bleeding: he would have smelled that as soon as she walked through the door, with the current state of his hunger. She didn’t have any visible bruising or injuries, either. Without answering him Bonnie placed her hand on his wrist and gently tugged his hand away from her neck. Bonnie made no further move to put any distance between them, even though they were standing so close that Damon almost had to cross his eyes to look at her.

“It’s stupid… it’s so stupid,” her mouth trembled a little like she was on the verge of tears and Damon found himself in a state of shock for the second time in five minutes. Bonnie had never been so openly vulnerable in front of him before. Almost as soon as the realization hit him a second one replaced it: Damon was Bonnie’s only option for tenderness and comfort right now and she would never choose him if their circumstances were different. And while that might be true, Damon felt like he owed her a bit of reassurance.

He squeezed her elbow and kept his voice low like he might have had he been trying not to startle a small animal, eyes darting across her features to catch any minute change. “If it’s got you so upset then it’s not stupid, is it?”

Green eyes met and caught his own, searching. It becomes immediately apparent that Bonnie didn’t trust Damon to not make fun of her, or to not have ulterior motives for being gentle with her like this. A wave of self-loathing almost suffocated Damon then; no wonder that Bonnie should feel that way, considering how selfish and narrow-minded Damon had been ever since they’d met. All he had ever cared about had been Katherine, and then Elena after her. He hadn’t had time for anything or anyone else.

Damon would have likely beat himself up for his past failings for much longer if whatever Bonnie could see in his eyes - and Damon was beginning to realize that she saw more in them than most people - must have satisfied her. She went lax in his grip, like her strings had been held tightly up until that very moment and now that they’d be cut she could finally let the tension she’d been holding within leech out. After a few seconds Bonnie sucked in a sharp breath and let her words tumble from her mouth in a rush that Damon had to work to catch.

“I thought I was alone. I woke up and it was so quiet - no animals, no cars going by…” He squeezed her elbow again because she’s still allowing the touch, almost leaning into it. His fingers curl so completely around the bone. Damon held his breath and waited for her to continue, listening as her heartbeat finally began to settle in real time. “I know I said I wanted to stay at my parents, stay at home, but I woke up and you _weren’t there_ and I -” 

Even with Bonnie this untethered and distraught Damon could get punched for tugging her into his arms, but he decided it was worth the risk with how his heart broke for her then, just a little. Things _must_ be rough if the thought of Damon not being there was enough to send Bonnie spiralling. When Damon began to tug her closer, his arms moving to embrace her, he expected at least some resistance from her - after all of the flinching he’s witnessed at much more casual touches, from much better friends - but Bonnie went with the motion so easily, letting herself be tucked underneath Damon’s chin. Bonnie’s own arms wound their way around Damon shortly after and Damon blinked at the wall behind her. 

This was the _opposite_ of a punch.

It would have been impossible for Damon not to compare hugging Bonnie to hugging Elena. The immediate difference between the two was how much smaller Bonnie felt in his arms. Damon had always been able to rest his cheek against Elena’s when they hugged but Bonnie’s shorter stature meant that her face was level with his shoulder, practically his chest. He had the insane and fleeting thought that they fit like puzzle pieces that had been cut solely to complement the other. 

When Bonnie shifted slightly in his arms Damon assumed that she wanted to pull away and loosened his grip on her in response, but Bonnie only turned her face so that it was tucked into the warm hollow of his throat and gripped her arms around him tighter. That Bonnie would trust him with this - would trust him at all - made him feel… Damon didn’t know. He would have time to examine it later when he didn’t have a trembling witch in his arms, his neck damp with tears that Bonnie was trying to subtly shed.

The ticking of the Grandfather clock counted the minutes for Damon. _One, two, thr-_ Bonnie shifted in his grip again, pulling away properly this time. Warmth has returned to her face - was she _embarrassed?_ \- and the smile she gave him was the most genuine that Damon could remember her directing his way in a good long while. Since before the whole mess with the Travelers and Enzo being a pain, that’s for sure. Bonnie swiped at the skin underneath her eyes like if she did it fast enough Damon wouldn’t notice that she had been crying, like he hadn’t felt the evidence against his skin just moments before. The urge to touch and comfort her hadn’t yet left him and Damon found his hands drifting to hold Bonnie’s arms. Once more Bonnie didn’t flinch away, leaning into the touch. Damon almost wasn’t shocked anymore. Maybe they’ve landed in a Twilight Zone in which the little witch had developed the capacity to tolerate him? Wouldn’t that be something. 

Damon noticed the bag on the floor behind Bonnie for the first time. The sides of it bulged with what Damon could only assume were Bonnie’s things. Damon resolved not to mention it right then; saying anything that could be construed as an _I told you so_ when Bonnie’s heart had only just returned to normal made Damon want to grind his teeth together. A week earlier he wouldn’t have hesitated to throw a pointed barb her way and now the thought of doing so didn’t even bear thinking about.

It couldn’t be any later than eight in the morning but they were both far too keyed up with adrenaline to even consider another run at sleep, and Bonnie could maybe use a shower to wash away the stink of fear. Damon didn’t need her to smell like prey around him, now or _ever_. Letting go of Bonnie was harder than Damon would have expected but he made himself do it, stepping back to get some distance that they both probably benefit from. Bonnie looked up at him, her eyebrows raised in a question that Damon felt like he could hear. “Why don’t you go up to my room and wash up? I’ll start on breakfast.” 

Bonnie looked down at herself and pulled the tank top she must have slept in away from her skin with a grimace and a wrinkled nose. “Yeah, thanks.” Without a backwards glance she headed for the staircase and made her way upstairs. Damon opened his mouth with the intention of giving directions but closed it almost immediately; Bonnie has been at the Boarding House often enough that she would no doubt know the way. 

A second later he opened his mouth again to tell her to use the room _next_ to his instead; he aired it out yesterday, after all, and there’s a perfectly serviceable shower in there. Every room in the house had an ensuite. But the moment passed, Bonnie having made it halfway down the hall already. Oh well. Maybe she would see that the bedroom next to his was ready to be used and connect the dots herself, use the shower in there.

Curiosity overtook him and Damon stood still, ears stretched to listen for the telltale clunk of pipes unique to the water turning on in his bathroom. It was easy not to examine just how easy Damon found it to follow Bonnie’s passage through the house based on her heartbeat alone; she paused at the doorway to the second room only for a moment before moving past it and into his room, the pipes creaking a minute later. Damon smiled and then frowned at himself. Why was he _pleased_? This place was messing with his head.

Damon shook himself, arms and legs flailing out, before he moved to grab the bag that Bonnie had brought with her, finding it surprisingly heavy. Had she brought _rocks_? The bag smelled vaguely musty but that could just be because of her mom’s clothes. As he walked past one of the windows on his path to the kitchen he could see something out on the front lawn: the day’s newspaper. He may as well bring it in and give the little witch something to distract herself with from what are probably going to be some spectacularly awful pancakes. As Damon opened the front door and walked across the stones he stretched his hearing as far as he possibly could, listening for any signs of life besides them… _nothing_. Animals hadn’t returned to their little slice of paradise overnight and Damon would have to do something about _that_ problem sooner rather than later.

Annoyed, Damon grabbed the newspaper and headed back inside, throwing it on the wooden kitchen table and thunking Bonnie’s bag down on the counter. As soon as he unzipped the bag to take a peek inside he could see why the bag was heavier and stinkier than he’d been anticipating; Bonnie had tucked a dusty old tome in between the clothes. When he touched it the cover burned him and Damon swore colorfully with no one there to see it and judge him. _Witches_. They never wanted other supernatural creatures poking their noses in their business. 

He could only assume that Bonnie had a reason for bringing what he imagined had to be a grimoire here and she could tell him all about it when she came down. For now, Damon walked over to the ridiculous sound system and covered his eyes, spinning the CD wheel blindly. He picked an album at random, moving by feel to put the CD in the player… after a few seconds of waiting, _Whatta Man_ by Salt n Pepa. He grinned. If nothing else, it’s sure to make Bonnie grimace. 

Damon was eager to get her back to feeling a broader range of emotions than _fear_ and _uncertainty_. There’s also a not-insignificant need to resettle their equilibrium to something Damon could understand and find some familiarity in. The moment he and Bonnie had shared… the _moments_? Damon felt distinctly unsettled, not yet knowing if it was something he wanted more or less of. Damon felt immediately contrite for even thinking of the possibility of wanting _more_ of it. He had been horrible to Bonnie more times than he could count, he didn’t deserve her kindness or affection even if it _was_ something he wanted.

Damon opened and closed the cupboards of the kitchen louder than was strictly necessary like the noise would shake free the strange thoughts about Bonnie and also because Stefan had moved _everything_ , what the fuck? Eventually he found and pulled out the ingredients that he thought were required for pancakes. Damon had never made them himself before, had only ever seen it done, but he’d swallow vervain before he ever told Bonnie as much. The inherent self-flagellation of cooking pancakes at all wasn’t lost on Damon but he reasoned that the action could be a type of catharsis that he could then move forward from.

Music in the 90s was truly awful but Damon danced along all the same, arms swinging and hips shaking, batter-splattered spatula serving as an impromptu microphone as he sang - badly - along. Damon was mid-spin, spatula poised in front of his mouth as he belted out the stupid lyrics of the latest song, when he spotted Bonnie in the doorway to the kitchen. Her hair was wet and dripping onto her shoulders as she laughed at him, her face bright with amusement. Damon unfroze and smiled down at the pancakes - were the underdone, or were they ready? He had no idea - and waved the spatula imperiously, directing Bonnie towards the table. 

“Sit, pancakes are almost ready.” It could be a lie. He had been adding to the stack in front of him for the past five minutes; some of the pancakes looked a little gooey while others had smoking edges. It’d do for a first effort though and it would have to be better than nothing, unless Bonnie wanted to make her own breakfast. Bonnie picked up the mean book that had zapped him as she made her way to the table, shuffling her feet. She chose to sit closer to the fire that Damon would have expected considering he himself already felt too warm, even though it was hours off of noon. Maybe she ran cold. Damon glanced at her clothes - she’d obviously changed out of what she’d been wearing when she arrived - and nearly dropped the spatula onto the stove.

Bonnie must have helped herself to Damon’s drawers after showering in his bathroom because she had on one of his Henleys, a dark heather gray that was making her skin look soft and warm. A quick downward glance showed him that Bonnie was also wearing a pair of his old ratty sweatpants from _somewhere_ that were covering her feet completely; that explained the shuffling around the kitchen. Damon couldn’t help but stare and Bonnie must be able to feel his eyes on her because she looked up from the grimoire to catch Damon’s eye. At the surprised look on Damon’s face Bonnie’s face warmed. A hug Damon could maybe ignore - or spend too long thinking about, as it happened - but Bonnie wearing his _clothes_? They must be in that Twilight Zone he’d thought about earlier. What else could possibly explain what was happening?

“Oh, sorry,” Bonnie tugged on the Henley and it slipped down on her shoulder, neck and collarbones on display even more than they’d already been with the over-large neckline. Damon blinked slowly. Bonnie dropped his eyes and spoke into the pages of the grimoire, “I left my bag downstairs. It was either this or a towel.”

The smell of burning batter drifted into Damon’s nose and flipped the offending pancake clear off of the stove and onto the floor, not quite muffling the _fuck!_ that dropped out of his mouth. Bonnie laughed loudly at him again and Damon ducked down to pick up the burnt and steaming pancake off of the floor. As it burnt his fingers he said from the relative safety of behind the counter, “I would’ve preferred the towel!” and got an exasperated but amused _Damon!_ for his trouble. Damon grinned again as he stood back up, throwing the ruined pancake onto the counter and wiping his hands off with the hand towel he’d jauntily draped over his shoulder when he’d started his mostly-failed cooking experiment. 

He assessed his handiwork with a critical eye. The stack of pancakes was… less than impressive: some had picked up far too much color as Damon danced about the kitchen and others were so undercooked that they were making their neighbors damp. Damon really should have asked Uncle Zach how he always got them so perfect when he made them for - when he made them, but Damon had other things on his mind at the time. For now, he salvaged the ones that are the least burnt but the most cooked and puts them on a plate for Bonnie; eating undercooked pancake batter wouldn’t kill _him_.

He placed the plate down noisily next to the dusty grimoire Bonnie hadn’t taken her eyes off and sat down, his legs immediately bumping into Bonnie’s underneath the table. She kicked him and then grunted in what could only be annoyance when Damon caught her foot between his legs and trapped it there. Besides a token wiggle of the trapped limb, Bonnie doesn’t try terribly hard to get away. Damon snorted when she looked at the pancakes, her eyebrows climbing up her forehead. 

“Gee, thanks?” She poked at the burnt crust of one with her fork, the grimace clear on her face. “I don’t even like pancakes.”

 _She_ had. Even the thought of her made Damon’s appetite wane slightly and he had never been hungry for pancakes in the first place… it was getting harder to ignore his need to feed. For now, all he could do was feed the little witch sitting in front of him. “Too bad: grubs up!”

After heaving an almighty sigh Bonnie picked up the offending pancake at the top of her stack with one of her little hands - _how_ are they so small and how has Damon never noticed before now? - and took a tentative bite, barely getting any pancake at all. Bonnie grimaced some more. At least with her eyes firmly on the book she didn’t see Damon wincing as he took his first bite of soggy pancake… yeah, no. Damon shoved his plate away. He had no hope of convincing himself that a near-toxic pancake would taste better than the blood he was really craving.

With nothing to occupy his attention he tapped the page Bonnie had the grimoire open to with an outstretched finger and swore again when it burnt him a second time, quicker than it had before. “Fuck! What did you bring this here for, anyway?”

Bonnie sniggered at him as she finally tore her eyes away from the book to look at him, pointedly raising her eyebrow at Damon’s discarded pancakes. Damon chose to ignore that. “You knew it’d do that, you big baby.” Damon poked his tongue out at her and she rolled her eyes heavenward before looking back at him. “I found it at my Grams’, before I… before I came back here.” She took another bite of the pancake she was still holding and pulled a face at the bitter taste. “It’s like we’re frozen in a little pocket of time… everything that existed in 1994 still exists, I guess.” 

“For better or for worse, right?” Right on cue the next track on the CD Damon had put in the player started; not one of Salt n Pepa’s best, that’s for sure. He winced. 

Bonnie continued like he hadn’t said anything. “This book taught me a lot when I was first learning about being a witch… I figure maybe it can teach me again, if I’m not the Anchor anymore.” She took another absent-minded bite of the awful pancake and managed to not make a face. She must be really hungry; you couldn’t pay Damon to eat that. Regular food tasted weird enough to vampire tastebuds without being _burnt_. 

“You’re forgetting one little thing, Bon-Bon!” The nickname sprung forth without his permission and the immediate glare it earned him decided it: he was going to call her that wherever possible. “That _might_ work, if you’re still a witch at all… and our luck hasn’t been too hot lately, has it?”

Damon put it down to years of a combination of cheerleading and gymnastics that Bonnie was somehow flexible enough to kick him with her other foot while barely moving in her seat. It even hurt for a microsecond! For such a little person she was deceptively strong; her glare was certainly strong enough to pin Damon to his seat.

“Would a little support kill you?”

He grinned with all of his teeth, maybe flashed a little fang just to be a dick. Bonnie couldn’t prove anything. “Have you ever considered that _you’re_ the one being negative, reacting to what is my natural god-given,” Bonnie snorted. Rude. “self, negatively?” 

She puzzled through that one for a moment - so did Damon, he had confused _himself_ \- before rolling her eyes so hard Damon was a little concerned that they were going to roll clear out of her head. “You’re ridiculous!” 

“Nope, I’m just consistent.” 

This time when he grinned at her Bonnie threw an answering smile his way, even if it was only small. He felt like they were almost back to their usual comfortable level of banter, as things should be. Damon saw the newspaper where he’d thrown it earlier. He picked it up and tossed it towards Bonnie; it landed on her half-finished breakfast. Her smile melted into a fresh glare but she picked it up, eyes flicking around for a moment before settling on something. She picked up a pen from somewhere and tapped it against her bottom lip. 

“Breakfast with you and a crossword puzzle from 1994. Great.” 

The words - were they even meant as an insult? Damon wasn’t sure - had barely left her mouth when the room grew suddenly dark around them, so that the only light to see by was coming from the fire. Either the sun had gone out entirely or they were experiencing another eclipse, and that could only mean… no. The Universe couldn’t be that cruel, could it? Damon’s skin felt tight with nerves. “Bonnie, what’s the date on that paper?”

There was a heavy pause as Bonnie looked to the top of the paper, squinting to read the text with minimal light. Her sharp intake of breath told Damon what he didn’t want to know even before Bonnie could open her mouth; the light from the fire was enough to see that Bonnie’s eyes had widened. “It says May 10th, 1994. We’re living the exact same day.” 

Well, shit. If Damon had doubts about this being his very own torture chamber before, they’ve been dashed: this little slice of paradise is tailor-made for him personally, and Bonnie gets to suffer alongside him. The little witch didn’t deserve that. May as well clue her in. “Oh, great. We’re in hell… my own, personal hell.”

Bonnie frowned at him and Damon realized how it must sound to her, him saying that. Without any knowledge of the context that 1994 carried for Damon, Bonnie could only assume that the idea of being trapped in this place living the same day with her again and again and _again_ was why Damon was calling this place his own personal hell. If only she knew the truth… but the thought of telling her, making his mouth form the words, made Damon’s stomach roll like he had spent a full twenty-four hours drinking tequila and nothing else. He never should have said anything because Bonnie was staring at him now, her eyes intent on his face. 

Damon had always known that he was something of an open book - it would probably do him a world of good to practice being _less_ expressive - but he wished in that moment that Bonnie couldn’t see right through him. Damon was so focused on trying to school his expression into something resembling nonchalance that it took him a moment to notice that the room had filled with sunlight once more, the eclipse over for the second time in as many days. Or was it one day? This place was fucking confusing.

Bonnie’s eyes left him eventually to take in the room around her and Damon sagged in his seat, like Bonnie’s gaze had literally been pinning him in place. When she shifted her trapped foot in between his legs Damon squeezed his knees together without thinking about it, preventing her from extracting herself completely. The instinct to rile Bonnie up had always been strong and Damon wasn’t particularly interested in curbing it while they were here. 

While that was true, Damon recognized that it was also an instinct that was beginning to intertwine with the urge to be close. To be touching, even in such a small way. Damon found it grounding when everything else about their situation was so up in the air and unknown. When Bonnie finally broke the slightly - very - uncomfortable silence, her voice was resigned and flat. “Trapped repeating the same day, over and over again, with my least favorite person in the world? Maybe it’s _my_ hell we’re stuck in.” 

Even as the words stung his skin like a physical thing Damon breathed out a shaky sigh because the relief at Bonnie refraining from asking him to elaborate on why he was so certain that they were stuck in _his_ hell was so intense. If circumstances had been normal Damon knew that Bonnie wouldn’t have been so quick to resist her urge to pry information out of him; Damon had no doubts that Bonnie could tell he didn’t want to talk about it and was, for some unknown reason, giving him an out. 

It was just one more thing that Damon didn’t deserve. For the past three years he had only been able to focus on one person - Elena - and he’d let everyone else fall by the wayside. Alaric, Caroline, Bonnie… even his own brother. Forever putting their needs on the backburner for what he would have called the greater good at the time… but now didn’t feel as sure. A not insubstantial wave of guilt made its way through him. Bonnie might be tolerating him right now, even allowing his touch, but Bonnie’s words remind him of the hard truth: she doesn’t have any other options. Bonnie had no one else to turn to for conversation, or for affection. Hearing the reminder that he’s still Bonnie’s least favorite person in the world was exactly the perspective that Damon needed.

Damon shifted his legs to release Bonnie’s foot, pushing back from the table with an awful scraping of wood against the stone floors to stand in front of the fire. Stefan would be proud of the state of Damon’s brooding, right now. All he was missing was the Hero Hair (trademark pending). Damon could feel Bonnie’s eyes on his back and her confusion felt almost as obvious to him, which was fair considering that he _was_ acting weird. But she’d said it, hadn’t she? Bonnie had acknowledged before they landed in this place that there were a million other people that they’d rather be stuck with and Damon could do well to remember that. Bonnie thought that Damon was a blood-thirsty monster who was _maybe_ an okay boyfriend to one of her best friends in the world, nothing else.

Still, it definitely wasn’t his best cold open ever when he said, “I have to go to the hospital.”

Damon had begun to come to terms with being able to sense Bonnie’s attention on him like a physical thing; she had looked away from him, maybe down to the grimoire again, but her eyes snapped back to him at his words. No doubt cataloging him for some sort of injury that she missed earlier. Or maybe Bonnie wouldn’t care if he was hurt? “What? Why do you need to go to the _hospital_?”

“1994… Stefan was on the vegan diet, so there’s no blood bags in the cooler downstairs.” Damon turned so his back was to the fire, intense warmth at his back, and watched as Bonnie put two and two together and got four: if Damon couldn’t find something to eat soon, his options were going to be limited to _her_. But he may as well go for broke and drive the point home, be the cruel and snarky Damon that Bonnie knows and hates. “I, on the other hand, was eating the townsfolk. Can’t say I’ve seen many of those around, have you?” 

Bonnie didn’t say anything in response and Damon wondered what she could be thinking about. She’s probably remembering how Damon acted when he first came to Mystic Falls. Killing indiscriminately and leaving messes everywhere he went, bodies torn open and nearly bloodless. God, turning Vicky. Damon really regretted that one. You wouldn’t ever get Damon to admit liking Matt Donovan, not even under pain of torture - something that Damon was intimately familiar with! - but doing that to the guy’s only sister had been a huge asshole move, even by Damon’s unique standards. Hindsight really was twenty-twenty, and a bit of a bitch.

Over the years Damon had mellowed out, though. He had Elena to win over and impress and it was plain to see he was never going to do that by tearing open the arteries of Mystic Falls’ residents whenever he felt like it. It’d been tough, but Damon moved to mostly drinking from blood bags instead. Damon hadn’t stopped killing people, of course - had ripped out plenty of hearts and snapped a good many necks - but that was all lumped into the recognizable category of ‘the greater good’. Elena might have never seen it that way, no matter how hard she’d let herself try to, but Damon knew that deep down Bonnie had always understood it. After all, Damon had seen the lengths Bonnie had gone to to protect the people _she_ loved.

Speaking of Bonnie… Damon could hear that her heart had started to beat faster and harder, so loud that it was all Damon could focus on. It was obvious to them both that as things currently stood she was his only option for sustenance if the two hospitals in the vicinity of the town didn’t have any blood on hand. May, 1994… Damon remembered suddenly that there had been a bad car accident, a multi-car pileup, around this time. Could have been earlier in the month or later, but Damon didn’t dare try counting his chickens yet. All he could do was hope that the hospitals had at least a few blood bags on hand. Enough to last a while, or at least until Bonnie was able to get her witchy juju working again and could magic them a way out of this place. 

He was pulled from his thoughts by Bonnie getting up and moving over to her bag, rifling through it, pulling out different items of clothing before seemingly deciding on a Let’s Go To The Hospital ensemble. She’d left the grimoire open on the table. Damon had an inkling where this was going, but he’d found that it never hurt to ask. 

“What do you think you’re doing, Bon-Bon?”

That earned him the glare he was expecting. Damon didn’t smile even when the corners of his mouth wanted to twitch upwards. “I’m coming with you,” she said, matter of fact as anything. She edged towards the door like if she managed to get changed out of his clothes quick enough Damon wouldn’t have time to protest. He sighed. 

“No, you’re not,” Bonnie opened her mouth to protest but Damon threw up his hand, her teeth grinding together with her annoyance as her mouth snapped shut. “You need to stay here and use _that_ -” a dramatic finger pointed at the dusty book stinking up his kitchen, “to find a way to get us out of here and back to the people we’d _actually_ like to spend our time with.” 

To see Bonnie wince was a surprise. It was like she hadn’t realised that she’d hurt his feelings earlier, or maybe that he even had feelings to _hurt_. Bonnie had seen the aftermath of Damon in pain often enough that she should have known better. When she opened her mouth again Damon left the room with a whoosh; he was running from his problems and he knew that. Sue him. Bonnie yelled after him and he ignored her, running up to his room to grab an empty duffel big enough to carry what he was praying was at least two months worth of blood. A guy could dream. 

He stopped at the entrance to the kitchen on his way out the door to find Bonnie standing with her arms crossed, foot tapping irritably on the ground like a grumpy 50s housewife. Damon would never be so dumb as to share _that_ comparison with her. Considering he’d been hurt and annoyed only five minutes earlier, the words that left his mouth next were a surprise even to him: “I won’t be gone long, I promise.”

Saying the words softly sort of happened without his say so too, like he thought the words would bring her any comfort. Because that was the issue, wasn’t it? Not that Bonnie wanted to come with him, but that she didn’t want to be left in the Boarding House by herself. That she was worried that he _wouldn’t_ come back and she’d be left in this place all alone, without even the person she hated most in the world for company. It was nice to know that she wanted him around even the tiniest amount. 

The foot-tapping stopped and Bonnie almost deflated where she stood; Damon felt like he’d just watched a little bit of her indignant bluster disappear. Now instead of looking irritable she actually looked a little sheepish, like she was embarrassed that Damon was able to see through her. Well, surprise! She wasn’t the only one who knew how to play that game. 

Damon dropped the empty bag and walked around her to the sound system. Flicked through the varied selection before he found the album he knew was in there: Smashing Pumpkins’ _Pisces Iscariot_. If Damon’s memory served him - and it often did - there was a guitar solo in there that lasted over ten minutes. He put the disc in and pressed play. Music filled the kitchen as he walked back to Bonnie and stood in front of her, putting both hands on her shoulders in a way he thought he intended to be reassuring. As bright green eyes met his own Damon realized that he was positioned like he was about to compel her, which obviously wouldn’t work on Little Miss Witchy Pants. Life would never be that easy. He’d just have to try and make what he said next sound as convincing as possible regardless. 

“I _promise_ I’ll be back before the disc runs out, okay?” Bonnie stared at him for a long moment before nodding once, the action so tiny that Damon would have missed it entirely if his senses hadn’t been dialled up to thirteen right then. Just like she had been doing all morning Bonnie hadn’t flinched away from his touch. Her shoulders were rising and falling steadily underneath the weight of his palms; sometime in the last five minutes her heartbeat had returned to normal without Damon noticing. Damon found himself nodding too. “Okay.” 

Before she could change her mind Damon dashed from the room, grabbing the duffel as he went. He’d be back before the disc ran out of music from 1994 for Bonnie to listen to, hopefully with the duffel full of blood bags. If not… well, things would get real awkward, real fast.

\--

Even though Damon had known that letting himself hope at all was probably a fool’s errand, the reality of the situation in front of him was still _a bit much_. 

The entire supply of Mystic Falls’ main hospital’s blood bags was strewn across the linoleum floor, beige stained a garish purple-red that was more than a little disgusting to look at, even to a hungry vampire. When he’d first walked through the doors of the hospital and found his way to the store rooms, he hadn’t believed his eyes. 

Damon had picked up each bag as he came to it and inspected it, looking for any recesses of blood that had pooled in the bottom of the plastic. Nothing, nada, _zip_. And the reason for that was immediately apparent: every bag that Damon found had a single precise tear through it, like someone had gone at them with a knife. Some asshole had gotten rid of the blood that could have stopped him from feeding on the only other person in this hellhole and it looked like they’d done it deliberately, which was a scary thought. The blood was so long-dried on the floor that Damon’s boots weren’t even sticking to it.

Things were looking the polar opposite of _good_ but Damon knew he couldn’t give up straight away, that he had to be thorough. He ripped through every single room of the hospital trying to find one, just _one_ , bag that was intact. He was panting when he finally reached the final room, hair falling into his eyes and wild about his face. Every single bag he could get his hands on - _hundreds_ of them - had been torn into and dumped onto the floor. That told Damon one unavoidable thing: he and Bonnie weren’t as alone here as they’d thought, and whoever was in here with them knew Damon was a vampire. Neither of those facts were particularly comforting.

With that knowledge Damon stretched his senses as far as he possibly could and listened for any sign of life. He knew Bonnie was at the Boarding House so any other heartbeat he could find nearby could only belong to the fucker who was here with them. He tried for at least five minutes, maybe more, but there was _nothing_. Damon certainly couldn’t see or smell them either, even with his senses heightened more than normal because of his hunger. He hadn’t seen or smelled _anyone_ other than Bonnie since they’d landed in this place, so where could this person - if it was even a person - be hiding? The worry that lanced through him then at the thought of Bonnie by herself at the Boarding House was intense, but he had to know for certain. He couldn’t go back to her in the state he was in without seeing if the blood bags in the other hospital had suffered the same treatment as these ones. Damon could worry about who was in here with them - and whether he was even going to mention them to Bonnie - later.

It didn’t take five minutes to vamp-run over to the next hospital. The situation there was even more dire; no blood bags at all, like they’d never had any to begin with. Damon’s luck had truly run out. The car accident that he remembered must have happened before May 10 and the store of blood bags for the entire town had been shipped to the main hospital, where Damon had just seen them dumped out onto the floor.

With no one around to see him Damon roared out his anger and not a small amount of despair, the sound echoing strangely around him in a way that made him feel even more alone in this place than he already did. With no blood bags to sustain him, Damon was only left with one option: to dessicate in the basement and wait for Bonnie to figure out their ticket out of this place, if she thought he was worth bringing back with her at all. 

Damon didn’t even want to entertain the alternative of going back to the Boarding House and telling Bonnie _hey, looks like you’re lunch!_ The thought made his breath catch uncomfortably in his chest. He’d put her through so much already. Bonnie had said barely an hour earlier that Damon was her least favorite person in the world... There was no way he could justify asking her to be so selfless as to offer herself as a food source for him; she deserved better than that. God, she deserved _so much better_ than that.

No. The basement of the Boarding House had been reinforced to contain vampires for exactly this purpose, and Damon was going to go back there and ask - he was going to _beg_ \- Bonnie to lock him up. To keep going through the grimoire to find a way out and just grab him as she left, or maybe leave him: that was what _he_ deserved. With how hungry Damon already felt he knew it wouldn’t be much longer before his dry veins started to rub together painfully; he was well on his way to desiccation already.

Damon allowed himself a fleeting moment to remember the pain of the process and the way it would make his veins burn from within, a slow agony before he would be in an in-between state. Not really dead, but definitely not alive. It would be awful beyond comprehension but Damon knew that he had to do it. Bonnie would lock him up and find them a way out and Damon would just have to pray that the blood bags had been destroyed organically and that she would be safe without him to protect her from whoever they might be trapped here with.

The thought alone was enough to make Damon feel miserable. He glared at the hospital room he was standing in, having torn it apart in a moment of blind anguish. Medical equipment was thrown haphazardly around and the bed was overturned and resting precariously on its side, wires everywhere. Letting his rage out in the hospital was leagues safer than doing it in front of Bonnie and it was even better than there weren’t any hospital staff to yell at him. Damon would have _definitely_ eaten them.

The light had shifted since he’d left the Boarding House and though he wasn’t wearing a watch Damon guessed that he’d been out, fruitlessly searching, for a little over an hour. Bonnie had either finished the CD he’d put in - if she’d even kept it playing to carry out their little agreement - or it had ended already and he was late. Damon couldn’t stall any longer if he wanted to keep his promise to her. It might’ve been a stupid promise to make in the first place, but Damon was determined to prove to Bonnie that he had changed; that he wasn’t the same man who she might have considered her least favourite person in the world, anymore. May as well start by showing her that he could be selfless when he wanted to be.

Even though there weren’t any blood bags for him to use, there were plenty of things that might actually serve a purpose for his time stuck in this place with Bonnie. While he might be a mostly-invincible vampire, Bonnie wasn’t afforded that same luxury. If they weren’t alone here, she could be in danger. Basic first aid kits and medical supplies got thrown into Damon’s bag as he headed for the entrance of the hospital. The least Damon could do was gather what was necessary for Bonnie to keep herself safe while he desiccated below her feet. Once the bag was full to bursting with enough supplies to keep Bonnie hale and hearty, Damon ran from the hospital and headed for the Boarding House. 

He was about to take a very long and uncomfortable nap.


	3. run from me darlin' (you better run for your life)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damon comes back from his search for food expecting to be locked up, but Bonnie has other plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally a mammoth of a chapter (yes, I know over 13k is STILL a huge chapter) so I cut it in half. Universe willing the second half should be up tomorrow or the day after! Feel free to hold me to that.
> 
> Comments are encouraged (and loved!) and as always come find me on tumblr [@bonbennett](http://bonbennett.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> title from 'run from me' by timber timbre

**bonnie -**

Bonnie _knew_ it was stupid to keep the CD going, but the thought of turning it off to sit in silence was infinitely less appealing. There was no way of knowing why exactly Damon had put it on in the first place, even if he had told her that he’d be back before the disc ran out. Knowing Damon as Bonnie was beginning to feel she did, it likely had a dual purpose of distracting her and acting as a measure of how long he’d been gone. It wasn’t even music that Bonnie _liked_. And still it played on. 

What it was was a reminder that Damon could be kind, and thoughtful, and generous.

Elena had tried telling Bonnie and Caroline as much when they’d given her a hard time for dating Damon at all, but it was a different feeling to have Damon direct those things towards Bonnie, something she never would have expected to happen in a million years. Bonnie would have said that Damon didn’t even know _how_ to act that way towards people who weren’t Elena and Stefan, yet here she stood: feeling comforted both by his promise, and by his hands on her for the second time that morning. 

To witness Damon’s thoughtfulness in action made Bonnie cringe even harder at the memory of how his face had crumpled when she had called him her least favorite person in the world. It had just come out at the time, almost by rote. Bonnie was so used to feeling antagonistic towards Damon that she hadn’t quite reset her feelings towards him just yet, surprisingly tender and comforting hugs shared between them notwithstanding. So she had said it even though the words weren’t near to being true anymore; Bonnie had met Silas after all, and he was fucking awful.

There wasn’t anything for it, really, besides to apologize to Damon when he got ho- when he got back. He deserved to hear that much from Bonnie after he’d been so understanding about her near-panic attack. Bonnie had been right on the verge of hyperventilating when Damon’s hands had tugged her ever so gently towards him and though she never would have expected to find comfort in Damon she had given herself over to it; she may have gotten used to flinching away from touch but really it was all that she craved.

Having his strong arms wrap so completely around her, the smell of him overwhelming in her nose, Bonnie could maybe see where Elena had been coming from all of these years. Maybe, just maybe, Damon wasn’t so bad after all. Bonnie’s face warmed at the sense memory of turning her face into Damon’s neck and the way he had tightened his arms around her, tilting himself so they were touching just about everywhere. 

Bonnie realized with a start, eyes widening where she was staring unseeingly at the wall above the fireplace, that she hadn’t flinched away from Damon’s hands like she had been doing at even the slightest hint that anyone was going to touch her since becoming the Anchor. Bonnie had always felt awful every time she had done it - jumping away to avoid a hug from Caroline or freezing like a rabbit caught in headlights whenever Jeremy tried to kiss her - even as she hadn’t been able to stop herself from doing it. It wasn’t something that had happened as soon as she’d become the Anchor, but it definitely started manifesting around the time a dozen or so dead supernatural creatures had shared their deaths with her without her express consent. It became hard to associate being touched with anything but blinding pain, after that. 

Now that she was forced to think about it, her mind firing at a million miles an hour, Damon attempting to touch her had never elicited that same reaction; her flinch when he’d touched her after the Other Side had first imploded was more at the shock of being able to feel _anything_. Even as Bonnie recognized that she had been becoming gradually aware that Damon had changed in the last year or so to become a much more tolerable person, she couldn’t understand why she would welcome his touch over everyone else’s. Over the casual touches of her best friends, of her _boyfriend_. 

Bonnie had to grab the top of the kitchen chair next to her, suddenly lightheaded, when she realized that she’d never flinched away from Enzo either. Even when he was dead and badgering her to bring him back from the Other Side, Bonnie had never startled at or rejected his touch. Hell, Bonnie had even sought it out! _What the fuck?_ Bonnie groaned in frustration, letting go of the chair to drag her hands roughly through her hair. It was hard to forget the warm press of lips to her temple as Enzo had passed through her and back into the life she didn’t get to live anymore. God, that hadn’t hurt either! She didn’t have time to think of the implication of either of these things right now. What did it matter if she had never moved away from Damon or Enzo’s hands, or that neither of their deaths caused her pain? That didn’t mean anything. It was probably a cosmic fucking fluke! There were certainly enough of those going around these days.

Or it meant _everything_ and things were actually a lot fucking stranger than Bonnie had first thought. 

The moment of silence as the ridiculous CD player moved onto the next song in the tracklist was a welcome jolt out of her circular thinking and back into the world around her. Bonnie shook herself, releasing the tension in her muscles and bounced in place like she was a boxer in a ring. The first order of business would have to be getting out of Damon’s clothes. With where her train of thought had gone Bonnie wished she had bitten the bullet and come downstairs in just a towel after all; she could have just grabbed some of her own clothes and changed away from Damon’s prying eyes. Grabbing some clothes out of one of Damon’s copious dressers just outside of his bathroom had seemed easier at the time, even though the thought made Bonnie want to laugh now. She should have known that the clothes would smell like him, the exact same light and spicy cologne that he still wore in the timeline Bonnie was used to. When she’d tugged on the soft Henley and sweatpants it had been almost as comforting as his hug had been, to feel surrounded by him.

 _That_ was a thought that was too insane to entertain for more than a second. And the way that Damon’s eyes had widened in what had looked like a combination of shock and amazement when he’d finally recognized that Bonnie was wearing his clothes, sweater slipping on her shoulder and sweatpants far too long? Bonnie felt her face flame once more.

Bonnie shuffled over to her bag in the said too long sweatpants and rifled through the contents, taking out some comfortable looking shorts and a light jumper like the one she’d been wearing yesterday… did it count as yesterday, if they were going to be repeating the same day, over and over again? Just thinking about it made her head hurt. 

Hiking the bag up onto her shoulder, Bonnie took her chosen clothes and made her way back up the main stairs of the Boarding House, stopping at the open doorway to the room adjacent to Damon’s. Earlier she had briefly looked inside and seen that the bedroom had its own ensuite - and presumably a shower - before deciding to go for the vague but reassuring familiarity of Damon’s room and the things that came with it - no matter how much Bonnie might regret that choice now.

Bonnie poked her head into the room properly and saw that Damon had put fresh sheets on the king size bed and opened the windows, a light breeze working to remove the smell of dust that had settled on the unused furniture; the room must have been vacant in real-world 1994, too. It was clear that Damon meant for her to sleep here, as close to him as she could be without sleeping in the same bed. If he’d done that even before Bonnie had come running to him in a panic, was it fair to assume that he was as reluctant to be alone in this place as she was? The possibility of that being true made the decision easier for her.

Bonnie dumped her bag just inside the doorway of the room next to Damon’s and undressed standing in the middle of the room, a feeling of boldness settling within her knowing that Damon was out of the house. It wasn’t like there was anyone else there to see her. And just like that any positive feelings she might have had evaporated, the reminder of their current situation crushing down on her until Bonnie felt like she couldn’t breathe. Here, Bonnie and Damon only had each other. No Elena or Jeremy, or Caroline and Stefan to keep them company. No Enzo either, even if the thought of him made an entirely different feeling settle in Bonnie’s gut. Bonnie found her eyes welling up with tears and she grit her teeth, willing them not to fall. She didn’t have time to mope.

Dressed in her new, not-smelling-of-Damon clothes, Bonnie pressed at her closed eyes until the urge to cry had left her. She quickly folded Damon’s Henley and sweatpants and placed them at the foot of the bed before turning and jogging back down the stairs and into the kitchen, bare feet loud on the carpeted floor. She didn’t know how much time she had - before the CD ran out or before Damon returned - and there was a lot to get done, or at least to attempt doing.

Her Grams’ grimoire was where she’d left it on the table, the pages filled with lines of spells and drawings meant to illustrate how each should be cast. They were all things that she could do without thinking before she’d become the Anchor and yet now the simplest spells wouldn’t come to her. She couldn’t even light a fucking candle, which inspired a sharp kind of embarrassment within her. It was going to take a hell of a lot of magic to get them out of this place, if Bonnie was right about magic being the key.

It was easy to understand why Damon had so little faith in her ability to get her magic back, let alone to find them a way to the home that they recognized and the people that they loved. Magic was such a fickle thing and Bonnie had only just begun to get a handle on hers when she had lost it. She’d basically be starting from the ground up, relearning everything she’d once known. It felt about as possible as regrowing a limb.

Before she sat down Bonnie went over to the soundsystem and picked up the CD case of the disc that Damon had put in, opening it to remove the little information booklet with the tracklist. Her eyebrows rose in surprise and a small laugh huffed out of her. Damon had apparently picked one with fourteen tracks that included, jesus, a song that went for _eleven minutes_? He’d grabbed the CD and put it in the player so quickly that she had thought he wasn’t even considering how long it would run for, but he had obviously known that this album was long enough to keep her distracted for a while. Without Bonnie’s permission the corners of her mouth quirked up in a smile and she was suddenly grateful that Damon wasn’t there to see it, but not as much as she found herself wishing he was.

Satisfied that the music would keep the kitchen noisy around her for a good long while, Bonnie got comfortable at the dining table and let herself get lost in the spellwork. Or, the theory behind the spellwork. The pronunciation of the incantations was just as easy for her as it had always been - did all witches automatically get a passing grade in ancient languages? - but she couldn’t get any of it to _work._ Lighting a candle with a single word had been one of the first spells she’d learned and Bonnie found one lying around in a cupboard. She placed it on the table in front of her and said - shouted, really, her voice loud and desperate - _incendia_ so often that it didn’t even sound like a word anymore, no sign of a wisp of smoke from the candle wick let alone a flame.

Bonnie stared at the candle for a minute, furious with it and herself most of all. She pushed back from the table and stormed out of the kitchen, picking a pillow at random from one of the couches in the living room. She took it back into the kitchen, rifling through the drawers until she found a knife sharp enough to slice through the fabric. Feathers flew everywhere. Bonnie dropped the useless pillowcase and held her hand over the feathers, willing them with all of her might to float through the air like they had the day she had demonstrated her new powers for Elena. The feathers didn’t even move an inch and Bonnie was so frustrated that she felt on the verge of tears and definitely on the edge of letting loose an almighty scream. 

And why couldn’t she? She was here by herself, after all. Bonnie sucked in a deep breath and let the scream that had been building in her for what was honestly much longer than she had been in the place - since she’d become the Anchor, at least - rip out of her body. It echoed around her, bouncing off of the stone of the fireplace and reverberating pleasantly in her ears before the music bled through again. Bonnie panted slightly. It was invigorating, to just let herself rage at the world for a moment.

Not just for hiding her magic from her but for putting her in this place and dragging Damon along for the ride when he’d rather be back in Mystic Falls with the love of his life. Neither of them would have ever chosen to be trapped somewhere together for an extended period of time. This forced cohabitation was either going to make or break them, maybe literally. Bonnie didn’t entirely trust that they wouldn’t annoy each other so much that she wouldn’t run a stake through him or that he wouldn’t make a pass at snapping her neck. 

Damon just made her so _angry_ sometimes. He’d always, ever since they first met, had an innate talent for pressing just the right button to make Bonnie want to strangle him. He could just be so flippant and blase about things that Bonnie thought really deserved more consideration, like her _life_. Even after being comforted by him, Bonnie wasn’t able to forget all of the occasions in which Damon had decided someone else’s life was more important than hers and had put her at risk because of that, whether it was through asking too much of her abilities or putting her directly in the firing line. What made her even angrier, though, was that she couldn’t even properly resent him for it because she had done the same thing time and time again to save the people that _she_ cared about. It was just lucky for them both that the people they cared about had a tendency to intersect, when it came to going to great lengths to protect Elena.

Bonnie could never begrudge Damon for loving Elena enough to always put her first, even if it had put Bonnie in more than a few tough situations. No, Bonnie couldn’t judge Damon for doing that because she could relate to the need he felt to protect what he considered _his_. Bonnie had believed for a long time that the love she felt for Jeremy was the same as the love Damon felt for Elena. Hell, she’d died for him, of course Bonnie _loved_ him. But being stuck in this place, virtually no one for company? Bonnie allowed herself to admit that while she loved Jeremy, she didn’t love him in that same all-consuming way that Damon loved Elena.

The love she felt for Jeremy was a soft and tender thing, worn with use like a favorite sweater: it was something protective and caring, not something passionate and life-altering. Bonnie had simply loved Jeremy enough to save his life at the cost of her own, because it was what he deserved. Bonnie found herself laughing, a short and broken thing. Because if they ever managed to get out of this place and back to the Mystic Falls that they recognized? Bonnie was going to have to break up with Jeremy, and wouldn’t that just be a kicker for them both. Bonnie, returned from certain death, only to break Jeremy’s heart. 

That thought was sobering enough to bring Bonnie back to her surroundings, which she immediately registered as being eerily silent. Sometime in her maudlin musings the CD had finally reached its end. She’d spent the afternoon trying the most simple spells in the book to no avail and had wasted the last half hour at least moping about what could have been, like an idiot. Bonnie got up and switched the sound system off to stop the crackling of static and tilted her head to listen. Nothing. Silence so complete it felt like a physical thing around her, all at once empty and smothering. It took barely a second for her heart rate to start notching up and her breath to quicken, the panic at being alone she had felt that morning returning to her in a rush.

Bonnie didn’t think Damon would have come back and not have told her, but as the walls seemed to close in around her she wished fiercely that that was exactly what he had done. That he was up in the palatial bathroom she’d enjoyed only hours before, languishing in the tub, a pile of empty blood bags serving as a trail behind him. Or he was sitting in front of the fire, bourbon in hand. It was easier for her to imagine those things because the alternative was that the CD had ended and he _wasn’t_ back and she was alone, all by herself in this house and in this _place-_

No, she wouldn’t let the panic in again. Bonnie gripped the cool stone edge of the kitchen counter closest to her and closed her eyes, forcing herself to steady herself and breathe in deeply through her nose, releasing the breath through her mouth. The first breath was shaky and the ones that followed stayed that way, making her head feel like it was spinning. Or was that the room around her? Bonnie wasn’t even close to sure. Her thoughts alternated between complete blankness and a single mantra: Damon would be back. He’d be back, because he _promised her_ that he’d be back. If experience had taught her anything, Damon didn’t break a promise unless there was no other option. 

Just when she’d begun to doubt her own herself - he’ll be back, he’ll be back, _he hasn’t left you_ \- she heard the heavy front door open, the wood creaking in the same way that she’d always found creepy before but now found to be the most reassuring sound she’d ever heard. Bonnie sucked in her first steady breath in what felt like an hour and placed a hand on her breastbone; her heart was thumping, almost painful. 

Without otherwise announcing his presence at all - she’d half expected him to yell _honey, I’m home!_ \- Damon walked into the room, seemingly ignoring her entirely and making his way over to the overstocked liquor cart near the fireplace. He’d barely removed the crystal stopper in a decanter of bourbon before he was taking a swig, amber liquid splashing onto the floor when he missed his mouth a little. Damon dropped the bottle onto the wood of the kitchen table with a heavy _thunk_ and came over to her in a burst of vampire speed, his big hands landing on her shoulders exactly where they’d been hours before.

Bonnie ignored the voice inside of her that taunted her - _you didn’t flinch!_ \- and tried to discern how Damon was feeling by his eyes alone. With how he was acting, his trip to the hospitals hadn’t gone as planned, his words moments later only confirming that suspicion as much as they filled her with dread:

“You have to lock me up.” 

Without conscious thought Bonnie slapped his hands off of her and stepped back, shocked. If he was going to say crazy things, she needed some distance to evaluate him. Damon’s blue eyes were wide, the color of his irises almost starting against the whites of his eyes. Damon sounded devastated and desperate, his voice barely above a whisper, and the expression on his face matched that. If Damon was asking her to lock him up, it could only mean one thing. When she spoke her voice was quiet, far too quiet for the situation, but she didn’t care. Damon would probably be able to hear her even if she was on the other side of Boarding House.

"There wasn’t any blood, was there? You couldn’t find any.” 

Damon shook his head. Bonnie had known, really, but she needed to know for sure. Damon walked back over to the discarded bottle of bourbon and took a drink, head thrown back as his throat worked. If he kept on like this he was going to be buzzed and of no use to anyone and Bonnie stormed over to snatch the bottle away from him, slamming it back down on the table. Cutlery from their discarded breakfast rattled noisily and Damon stared at her.

At first Bonnie thought he was staring at something near her mouth but then she realized his gaze was on the rabbiting pulse in her neck, eyes unblinking in a way that was distinctly unnatural. The veins in the thin skin underneath his eyes began to darken and the white around the bright blue of his irises filled with an inky red. Bonnie had never seen a vampire's face transform so gradually before and she felt fascinated even through her growing terror. Damon groaned and turned his back on her, fingers rubbing roughly at his eyes like he could get them to stop.

“Bonnie, I’m not gonna be able to control myself much longer.” Like he wanted to illustrate his point Damon walked around the table, putting even more distance between them. Beyond the times that Stefan had thrown Damon in the basement and forced him to desiccate, Bonnie couldn’t remember ever seeing Damon so desperate to feed. It made sense, really, considering the last opportunity he would have had to feed was days ago now.

The vampires she kept company with - how did there get to be so many? - never really explained how often they had to drink blood to stay strong and healthy but it was clear now that it must be more often than Damon had been. As Bonnie looked at Damon, really looked at him, it was clear that he didn’t look like himself. He was paler than usual, which she hadn’t thought was possible before now, and strangely sweaty like he had a fever. It added to the sick and malnourished vibe he had going on. 

Despite all of that, Bonnie hadn’t caught Damon staring at her like she was dinner before the little incident just now. The hand he’d placed on her neck that morning hadn’t been feeding related, she didn’t think; it had really felt like Damon had only intended to comfort her, and his hand had landed there by instinct. Damon, bigger than her, showing her affection in a way that suited their sizes. Bonnie had to wonder if older vampires just had a better handle on their bloodlust; all the new vampires she’d ever come across didn’t care at all about stopping themselves from feeding.

Then again, Damon had always had more control when it came to feeding than Stefan. If Bonnie had been trapped in this place with Stefan and his ripper gene instead of Damon, she might have been in pieces on the floor by now. Given their current situation, Bonnie had a pretty good idea of which Salvatore brother she’d prefer to be stuck with, and he was standing in front of her.

Damon had started to breathe heavily through his mouth while staring up at the ceiling, like even looking at her was difficult. Like he could _smell_ her. Everything about his behaviour right then told Bonnie that he was trying his hardest to be good, was trying his hardest not to attack her when that must be what his instincts were screaming at him to do. That much was obvious, and Bonnie couldn’t ignore it. The urge to feed was so strong that Damon didn’t think he could control it and he was asking Bonnie to lock him up, and yet he still hadn’t made any move to come closer or to attack her. Damon still had his control.

Bonnie narrowed her eyes as she stared at Damon, considering their options. Because they weren’t just _his_ options, anymore. No matter what she decided to do it was going to have an effect on them both. If Bonnie locked him up like he was _begging_ her to do, he’d desiccate. Bonnie had heard often enough from every single vampire that had experienced it that not feeding for extended periods of time made it feel like your veins were sandpaper, rubbing together in a way that was excruciatingly painful. Damon’s heart would slow and his skin would become ashen; for all intents and purposes, he’d be dead. 

And she’d be alone. 

Just thinking it made a fresh wave of panic roll through Bonnie, her heart hammering even harder in her chest. Damon’s eyes snapped to her like he couldn’t help it and Bonnie realized that the sound of it must be deafening to him. The purple veins underneath his eyes were completely visible now, the whites of his eyes a gruesome blood red that made the blue of his irises glow eerily. Yet… Bonnie didn’t feel scared. And she knew what it felt like to be scared of Damon, to be _terrified_ of him.

It was how she had felt the night she had destroyed Emily’s amulet and Damon had rushed at her, fangs bared to sink into her neck with the intention of not just feeding from her but killing her. Bonnie remembered screaming at the time, certain that she was going to die. What she _didn’t_ remember was feeling any pain, but that was impossible. Thinking about pain right now wasn’t going to send Bonnie’s thoughts in a helpful direction so she forced herself to stop, instead watching Damon as he looked at everything in the room except her.

It was probably the burgeoning threat of insanity stopping Bonnie from being afraid of Damon right now; there had to be some innate thing wrong with her that was preventing her from worrying for her life. But any fear that she might have felt when Damon first came into the room and said he wasn’t going to be able to control himself much longer had dissipated as soon as Bonnie realized just how hard Damon was fighting the urge to attack her. Bonnie knew that she had to smell like prey right now. Her heart was still beating at what felt like a mile a minute, pumping blood around her body that Damon could hear, could smell. She was food and Damon was starving.

And that was the other option, here. If Bonnie chose to ignore his pleas to lock him up so he could desiccate in relative peace, _she_ was the only available alternative. It hadn’t escaped her attention that she hadn’t heard a single animal noise since they’d landed in this place. Despite the apex predators that called Mystic Falls home, the town had always been relatively full of wildlife; plenty of birds, as well as small rodents. Caroline’s mom had hit a deer once. Bonnie would have thought that the lack of people would have brought the animals into the town even further, not that they’d be gone altogether. It was almost eerily silent.

This place, though it looked and acted the same for all other intents and purposes, was completely silent of any possible food source for Damon. Bonnie knew that if Damon had any other option - blood bags, or animals _other than her_ \- he’d choose it. His willingness to be locked in the basement for the foreseeable future told her as much.

It seemed so simple to Bonnie then: she would offer to feed Damon. It was selfish and dumb and possibly even suicidal, but Bonnie didn’t want to lock Damon up to desiccate on his own. As insane as it _definitely_ was, Bonnie felt like she owed it to him. He had been so good to her that morning, genuinely comforting and caring. He was being so good to her _now_ by begging her to cause him pain in locking him up in the basement. They were alone here together and they _needed_ each other, whether they’d both come to terms with that or not. Bonnie would just have to ignore the healthy fear that she had always associated with offering herself up as a snack to a vampire - it felt like she was the only person in town who hadn’t dated one at some point to do some experimenting with - and let Damon feed on her. It was life or death for him, and she knew that.

The only thing stopping Bonnie from offering herself up outright? She wanted to be absolutely sure she could trust him not to get violent with her first, and she had a plan. So while it was a cruel thing to do and it could end terribly - like, with Bonnie _dead_ terribly - Bonnie needed to test him. He’d hurt her in the past and he could just as easily change his mind now and go for her throat before she would ever be able to stop him. This was the only way that she would be able to completely trust Damon with her life, in the most literal sense. Knowing that didn’t make it any easier to open her mouth and get the words out, but Bonnie forced herself to do it anyway.

“Damon…” she waited for his gaze to shift from her neck to her eyes. It was an uncomfortable few seconds. “I’m not going to lock you up -” Another pause while he opened his mouth to protest. Bonnie glared at him - she was glaring at a fucking vampire, what was her _life_ \- and his mouth snapped shut with an audible click. Was that his fangs? There was no time to let herself worry about that just now. “I’m not going to lock you up, Damon.”

Damon stared at her, incredulity plain on his face, apparently lost for words. That would have to be a first. Considering their past interactions Bonnie wondered if he had thought she would jump at the opportunity to lock him up with his consent and Bonnie sympathized; she had no idea what she was even thinking, let alone why she was doing what she was about to do. If you had told her even a week ago that she was about to run from a room - to deliberately act like prey - from a starving vampire who she only _sort of_ trusted, to see if said vampire would be able to resist the urge to chase and kill her? Bonnie would have laughed herself sick and told you to go and fuck yourself. It was incredible just quickly things could change. If nothing else, Bonnie knew that she had Damon’s attention now. “I’m going to run from you, out of this room -” 

“Bonnie, you _can’t_ , don’t,” Damon’s eyes were wide and his voice was loud with something that sounded suspiciously like panic but Bonnie was already edging her way towards the door, her eyes locked with his. Bonnie still hadn’t seen him blink and she doubted that he would have been able to take his eyes off of her even if he wanted to, right then. What she was about to do definitely topped her personal ‘Stupidest and Most Dangerous Ideas’ list.

Bonnie had to know for sure that she could put her life in his hands and trust his teeth at her throat; to trust him to take only what he needed, not her _life_.

Bonnie was standing in the doorway now, the rest of the house at her back. Her heart was beating so fast she felt dizzy with it, sure in the knowledge that Damon would be able to use it to follow her wherever she chose to run, if he wanted to. Or if he couldn’t stop himself. 

“And you’re going to stay right here. You’re not going to chase me, Damon. You’re not going to chase me and it’ll be fine, you’ll be _fine_!” The last few words got shouted over her shoulder as she finally turned, breaking eye contact with Damon, to run from the room. It was like some sort of connection that had existed between them had severed with the movement, leaving Bonnie panicky and unsure. What was she _doing?_ Bonnie almost felt faint with adrenaline yet for some reason, deep in her heart, she knew that she trusted Damon. And though her heart might know it, Bonnie had to tempt the predator in Damon in order to prove it to her brain.

Bonnie ran from Damon like her depended on it, because there was a chance that it did.

\--

Bonnie had barely made it out into the hall when she heard the sound of splintering wood from the kitchen, the suddenness of the sound making her squeal and stumble just slightly before she found her footing and focused on more important things, like getting the fuck away. She willed her legs to carry her forward faster as her lungs tried desperately to pump oxygen around her body, her breath coming in short pants that belied the fear that Bonnie couldn’t help but feel. Why was the house so huge, and full of open areas? She needed to find a room to lock herself in.

When Damon _roared_ , the sound horrifically loud and echoing in the otherwise emptiness of the house, Bonnie’s squeal from moments before turned into a proper scream that she didn’t have the time or inclination to conceal; luckily, the sound was immediately drowned out by the _boom_ of what Bonnie could only assume was crumbling rock. What the fuck was going on back there? Her instincts screamed at her but Bonnie darted a glance over her shoulder all the same - if this were a horror movie, she’d be killed first - to see that the hallway behind her stood empty. Had Damon not left the kitchen?

Just because Bonnie was stupid enough to look behind herself while theoretically running for her life, she wasn’t going to wait like a deer in headlights in the hallway for Damon to come bursting out of the kitchen. Hell, maybe he’d vamp-run right past her and was waiting to jump out in front of her when she least expected it. It’s what the old, asshole extraordinaire Damon would do. This Damon? Bonnie wasn’t so sure, even if the smell of her fear and the sound of her heart frantically pumping her blood around her body was all that Damon could likely concentrate on as much as he appeared to be trying to fight it. Bonnie had no time to wonder about it; she’d finally reached the staircase that led up into the belly of the house and she took them two at a time, her thighs burning.

In her haste her foot caught on one of the ridiculously old runner rugs and Bonnie stumbled, only just managing to catch herself against the wall to stop herself from falling and breaking her neck. A sharp pain in her palm told Bonnie that she’d somehow managed to give herself a splinter in the process, because this really _was_ a bad horror movie. A single droplet of blood welled up from the tiny wound and Bonnie stared at it. Bonnie froze in place, half expecting to hear Damon roar again - he would be able to smell the blood no matter how little of it there was, surely - but it was disconcertingly silent all around her. Adrenaline was starting to make Bonnie feel woozy and she had to _go_ , pushing herself off of the wall and making it to the top of the stairs at last.

As much as Bonnie wanted to let herself believe that Damon was strong enough - that he didn’t want to _kill her_ enough - to stop himself from hurting her, she had still expected that she would be leading him on some sort of chase. Yet besides his initial roar and the sound of destruction that had come from the kitchen, Bonnie hadn’t seen or heard him again. Bonnie worried again that Damon had run past her to lie in wait, a patient predator expecting the prey to land in his lap. There was nothing to say that Damon wasn’t waiting in the shadows for her, deciding when best to lunge for her neck. Bonnie trembled just slightly.

No. She couldn’t think like this; Bonnie had decided to place her trust in Damon for a reason, even if she didn’t fully understand what that reason was just yet. All Bonnie knew was that some strange - and not very small - part of her had believed that Damon wouldn’t hurt her and here he was, proving her right. So far, anyway. Bonnie didn’t want to push her luck by standing out in the open.

Even before she was bleeding lightly from a ridiculously acquired flesh wound, Bonnie wasn’t making it difficult for Damon to track her. Now that she had conquered the stairs Bonnie made a dash for Damon’s bedroom and the heavy door with a steel lock it possessed. A hysterical laugh bubbled out of Bonnie’s mouth then. If Damon really wanted to get to her a flimsy wooden door wouldn’t be able to keep him out, especially with the smell of fresh blood trailing behind her like a cartoon stink cloud. And it was the strangest thing: once Bonnie had started laughing she couldn’t stop. She was _giggling_ like she was enjoying herself, having the time of her life, and not running from a vampire who was so hungry he had told her that he wouldn’t be able to control his urge to _kill her_ much longer. God, Bonnie was insane. It was official.

The hallway that separated the stairs from Damon’s bedroom had never felt longer in Bonnie’s entire life. By the time that Bonnie had flung herself through the open doorway she was panting like she’d run a marathon, her hands shaking almost uncontrollably as she found the lock and engaged it. The _thud_ of it was so reassuring that Bonnie found herself relaxing just slightly as she squeezed her eyes shut against the headrush that came over her. Bonnie’s legs weren’t doing such a crash hot job of holding her up anymore so she let gravity take hold and slid to the floor, the solid door at her back calming her somewhat. Her _brain_ felt like it was pulsing and her hand was throbbing with a dull ache from the stupid, idiotic blister. It was like the Universe was trying to fuck with her by making her bleed, however little, with a hungry vampire around.

Bonnie opened her eyes and grimaced at the tiny wound marring her flesh and the bead of blood that had welled up from it. Even with the smell of her blood fresh in his nose, Damon hadn’t followed her. If it wasn’t for his primal roar as she left the kitchen Bonnie would have thought that Damon found it _easy_ not to follow her, even if a tiny part of her still expected him to pop up in front of her like a murderous jack-in-the-box. As her heart rate finally began to slow down Bonnie acknowledged that Damon wasn’t going to appear in front of her after all. 

It was obvious now that his bedroom was empty, save for her. The wood panelling of the walls looked warm and inviting with the glow of afternoon sun falling across them and Damon’s sheets were rumpled, no different to the way they’d looked that morning when she had used his bathroom to shower away the stench of her panic. God, the tiles were probably still wet. It felt like there was a literal chasm of time in between Bonnie running from her childhood home to seek reassurance from Damon - and the surprise at actually finding it, and then some - to now, having tempted the beast within him so she could be satisfied in her decision that feeding him was the right thing to do. 

Bonnie didn’t know if she would have made the same decision if he _hadn’t_ comforted her in the way that he had; if instead he had been the Damon she recognized, flippant and uncaring of her feelings. Would it have been easier to lock _that_ Damon up, to go it alone to figure out a way to get out of this backwards version of Mystic Falls? The Damon that Bonnie knew, the one she was familiar with, had been awful to her almost the entire time that they’d known each other. He’d deliberately scared her and threatened her, putting her in danger time and time again, when not outright making an attempt on her life himself.

Damon had always reeked of danger and unpredictability to Bonnie in a way that she hadn’t known how to handle or reason with. She had never been able to see him the way Elena did… or at least she hadn’t been able to until Damon had told Bonnie that her fears that morning weren’t silly and unfounded, offering her genuine comfort in place of hurtful mockery instead.

The Damon she had witnessed that morning felt like a completely different person to her. Damon had never before spoken to her so gently and he had certainly never wrapped his strong arms around her like he could protect her from the world - like he _wanted_ to protect her from the world - and Bonnie never would have expected him to treat her that way in a million years. This new Damon wasn’t cruel and hadn’t judged her for crying at the thought of being alone. Sure, he wasn’t an entirely changed person: he’d snarked at her not half an hour later and had made one of his usual sleazy and inappropriate comments. Yet now that Bonnie had a little distance and perspective to look back at it, she’d put money on Damon only having done that to settle them back into the rhythm of stepping on each other’s toes that they’d gotten used to over the years. It wasn’t Damon being an asshole for the sake of it, it was Damon trying to make her smile because he knew that she was freaking out.

With that realization Bonnie felt even worse for telling Damon that he was her least favorite person in the world. Just because he was being a dick at the time didn’t make the words any more true. He was still on the list at all - and Bonnie _did_ have a list - by virtue of his past actions alone. It would be hard to completely forgive Damon for the times that he’d terrified her or bargained with her life, but Damon hadn’t actually worn the Number One Worst crown for a while. He had lost the title to Klaus and then later to Silas, both of them so much worse than him by comparison even before Damon had shown her his softer side. Bonnie could even admit to herself, quietly in Damon’s bedroom with a heavy lock between them, that she even liked him a little. Maybe _more_ than a little based on his recent behaviour.

Bonnie let herself move away from the safety of the door and up to the side of Damon’s bed. The afternoon sunlight that was lighting the room with a warm yellow glow was also making the sheets of Damon’s bed look inviting and comfortable. From how they were rumpled, Bonnie guessed that he slept on the right like she did. When she’d been in his room that morning she hadn’t thought to investigate it, not wanting to be on her own for longer than was necessary. Considering she still hadn’t heard him in the hallway she figured that she had some time to snoop. Damon’s nightstand didn’t reveal much; an empty bottle of bourbon and a book. _Call of the Wild_. That made her smile, the memory coming to her instantly: years ago, now, when Damon _really_ had no faith in her abilities as a witch. She’d asked him what his favorite book was and tried to conceal her surprise when he’d told her, instead focusing on his bookshelves to summon the right one to pass to him. Impressing Damon had seemed so important, then. 

Now that Bonnie’s body didn’t feel like it was in an urgent life-or-death situation, the adrenaline that helped her to run faster than she ever had had left her and her entire body felt heavy and cumbersome as a result. It couldn’t have been later than mid-afternoon but Bonnie realized that she felt exhausted. It was fair to say that she’d had a big day. Since she didn’t have anything else to do - surely Damon would come looking for her eventually? Bonnie didn’t want to leave his room - she grabbed the book and hopped up onto Damon’s bed, which was embarrassingly a little too high for her. He wasn’t even _tall_ , what an ass. Once she got comfortable Bonnie wondered if Damon would be able to hear her. It had never occurred to her to ask how far vampire senses could stretch before, which felt like a huge oversight on her part now. It was probably reasonable to assume that older vampires had better senses, and she _was_ still bleeding a little from the blister in her palm. Regardless of her position in the house Bonnie wouldn’t be surprised to know that Damon could _smell her_ right now, let alone hear her. May as well test it.

“Damon…” God, why didn’t she think of what she was going to say before opening her mouth? There wasn’t a rulebook for thanking someone for _not_ killing you, or if there was Bonnie hadn’t read it. In the end, Bonnie could only be honest and hope that he would hear the gratitude in her voice. “Damon, you did so good. Didn’t you? You didn’t chase me. You’re not going to hurt me, I know that now.” 

Bonnie paused, eyes on the book in her lap. She couldn’t hear anything out in the hallway; for all Bonnie knew Damon could be standing right outside or he could be in the kitchen. How thick was the door? Maybe it would have taken him a full minute to break through if he had chased her, after all. Small comforts. She knew that she couldn’t imply that she trusted him with her life and not actually prove it, though. Bonnie hopped down to the floor again, the wooden floor making her footsteps seem overly loud as she walked over to the door to place her hand on the lock.

Bonnie hoped that Damon wouldn’t be able to hear the steadying breath she had to take before she said, “so… I’m going to unlock the door.” A simple twist of her hand and the only protection between herself and a hungry vampire was gone. Bonnie felt her heart pound hard only once, traitorous. It was more difficult to turn her back on the closed but unlocked door than it had been to turn it on a ravenous vampire. Bonnie half walked, half ran back to the bed, launching herself up onto it so that she bounced once when she landed. Like before she squirmed around until she was comfortable, moving the pillows around to form a little nest.

Though her eyelids felt heavy, Bonnie knew that it was unlikely that she’d fall asleep before she’d laid eyes on Damon. Instead she picked up _Call of the Wild_ and opened it. Bonnie knew that it was supposedly a classic but she’d never read it; now was as good a time as any, at least while she waited Damon out. The pages smelled old and soothingly of vanilla, the spine cracked from use. Damon had been honest when he’d told her it was his favorite, then. 

There still wasn’t any noise from outside, no matter how hard Bonnie tried to strain her hearing. Maybe Damon was being stubborn and had stayed in the kitchen. Maybe he’d decided to be ‘selfless’ and had ignored her, locking himself in the basement without her help. There wasn’t any knowing, though, only waiting. Bonnie was about to start reading before she stopped, hands tightening on the pages. It might help if Damon could _hear_ that she was relaxed now? Bonnie rolled her eyes at herself because this was ridiculous, but only Damon was here to judge her. She began to read aloud instead, her voice quiet at first before she found her stride with the unfamiliar way the book was written.

“ _Buck did not read the newspapers, or he would have known that trouble was brewing, not alone for himself, but for every tide-water dog…_ ” 

\--

Bonnie was nearing the end of the first chapter, her eyes more closed than they were open and her voice just a soft whisper, when the door handle rattled minutely. Book immediately forgotten in her slack hands, Bonnie’s eyes zeroed in on the handle, watching as it shook, as her heart started to beat so hard and fast that it was making her feel more than a little nauseous. While Bonnie genuinely believed that Damon wouldn’t hurt her now - that she _could_ trust him with her life - a small and traitorous part of her still panicked that Damon had just been biding his time out in the hallway and that he was going to come bursting through the door that she had foolishly unlocked, ready to paint his bedroom walls with her blood.

The door didn’t burst open in raining wood chips, though.

Bonnie tried her best to regulate her breathing as the door slowly creaked open, an inch at a time, to reveal Damon standing in the doorway looking more disheveled and unkempt than Bonnie had ever seen him. There was a deep red blood stain on the right shoulder of the dark grey Henley he was wearing that drew her eyes straight away. Bonnie felt her blood run cold. What had _happened?_ Bonnie darted her eyes all over Damon’s body, looking to see if he was hurt anywhere else. Her perfunctory examination told her that both of his thighs were maybe bloody too, but she couldn’t be sure because of the dark jeans he was wearing.

Bonnie was tumbling out of the security of Damon’s bed before she’d given her body the permission to do so, filled with a need that she didn’t recognize. Her hands were open and reaching for Damon, who made no move towards her from where he had stopped just inside the room. As soon as her feet had carried her close enough to Damon she grasped her fingers in the fabric of his shirt. In the same instant that Bonnie pulled Damon towards her body he collapsed against her, their arms winding around each other in sync. They were closer to each other than they had ever been - save for that morning - and it weirded Bonnie out, that it felt so comfortable. That it felt so _right_.

Bonnie couldn’t deny the fact that she had instinctively wanted to wrap her arms around Damon as soon as she had seen him in the doorway when only an hour earlier she had been running away from him, mildly in fear for her life. Damon’s spine was a long curve as he slumped to accommodate their differences in height, his head falling to rest against her shoulder and his arms secure around her for the second time in just a handful of hours. Two hugs in one day when they had barely touched each other in a way that hadn’t been meant to hurt before they’d found themselves in this place.

Damon had meant to comfort her with a hug that morning and he’d done so, leaving Bonnie feeling infinitely more relaxed than she had felt when she had been running from her house to his, certain that Damon would be gone and she would be left alone in this place. With Damon near to starving and begging her to lock him up for her own safety it seemed like the responsibility to comfort was hers now, though it felt more like they were both lending comfort to each other right now.

This was insanity. They were all the other had, here, so Bonnie was going to have to make peace with the armful of hungry vampire that she currently had; a hungry vampire who had turned his face into the skin of her neck, no less. Bonnie should be shoving him away. Hell, if Damon had pulled this type of stunt when he was in need of a feed back in the real world Bonnie probably would have kneed him in the nuts by now. But the adrenaline that had propelled Bonnie from the kitchen and up to Damon’s room hadn’t returned. She felt completely calm, almost serene. Bonnie’s body had decided to trust Damon and she may as well catch up with it.

Even so, that didn’t mean she didn’t have questions. Damon hadn’t moved his face from the warmth of her throat and he was digging the point of his chin painfully into the muscle between her neck and shoulder. Bonnie winced and reached up to wind her fingers through his hair and tugged lightly and then harder when he didn’t let himself be moved right away. Bonnie knew she’d never be strong enough to move him anywhere he didn’t want to go but eventually Damon relented, pulling back so that she could look at him. Their faces were about as close and she would expect them to be, considering their general proximity at the present moment. It felt like a victory when her voice came out evenly. “Why are you bleeding, huh?” 

Bonnie had noticed as soon as she’d seen him that the purple veins underneath his eyes had disappeared, leaving the skin soft and smooth. Damon’s eyes were back to their normal startlingly bright shade of blue, the whites of his eyes devoid of the creepy dark red that had filled them in the kitchen. Bonnie hadn’t seen a flash of fang from him, so she had to assume that they had been safely tucked away too. Damon was desperately hungry and had told her as much but he had never once bared his fangs at her; she’d barely even seen them. He’d been trying _so_ _hard_.

In lieu of answering her Damon pulled against the hold she still had on his hair and pressed his chin into her shoulder again, rubbing his face against her neck like a cat. Bonnie tugged at his hair as if to say _hey, stop it!_ Typically Damon just dug his chin in harder; it made her laugh. She never would have admitted that she enjoyed their banter before, but she did. It was refreshing in spite of itself. This new physical side to it was… well. Bonnie didn’t hate it.

“Staked myself to the wall… then to a chair, when that didn’t work so hot.” Damon’s voice was a warm rumble against her skin, goosebumps erupting in its wake. Bonnie had to make herself focus on what he was actually saying. Damon staking himself - more than once - definitely explained the splintering wood and crumbling rock noises she’d heard moments before he’d roared, only now she knew that his roar had been one of pain and not one of anger. Bonnie had no idea what to say in the face of that so instead she just blinked at the wall over Damon’s shoulder, thinking. Obviously she had known that he must have stopped himself from following the instinct to chase her in some way, but actually going as far to injure himself?

Just like that Bonnie knew she had been right to think that Damon would be able to stop himself from hurting her, let alone killing her. It still shocked her that Damon had said it so casually, like injuring himself to stop himself from hurting her was normal for him. Like it was something that he would do everyday. Breathing had become difficult for Bonnie and it had nothing to do with having Damon so close. With Damon bent over her like a parentheses Bonnie could see that the back of his Henley was as bloodied as the front. Damon had staked himself right through. Damon spoke into her neck once more. “Why are _you_ bleeding, Bon-Bon?”

So he _had_ been able to smell that. “Gave myself a splinter running up the stairs.” Bonnie smiled as Damon laughed against the skin of her neck, the brief feeling of teeth pressing against her throat lighting Bonnie up like a livewire. She didn’t feel afraid, though. Not of Damon. Bonnie was maybe slightly afraid of how she was reacting to him. Bonnie still hadn’t taken her hand out of his hair and she found herself absentmindedly carding her fingers through the silky strands, tugging lightly when Damon followed the motion. His hair was about as thick and soft and Bonnie would have expected it would be, considering the size of his ego. Despite said ego, Bonnie felt something terribly akin to tenderness for him. Moreso when he lightened the pressure of his chin on her shoulder and turned to rub his cheek against it instead, like he really was a big cat. Bonnie expected him to start purring like one any second now. Elena had never mentioned Damon being this affectionate, had she? It was more likely that it had never occurred to Bonnie to ask.

Damon pulled back again and reached up to take her hand out of his hair, giving her one of those roguish smiles that had the power to make just about anyone feel weak at the knees. Bonnie was helpless to do anything but blink at him as he took her other hand and looked down at her palm, his own fingers expertly pushing at the skin around her blister until the tiny shard of wood emerged painfully. Bonnie winced at the sharp hurt even as it was gone immediately after. A tiny droplet of blood welled up but Damon had already let go of her hand to move past her, presumably heading for the bathroom to clean up. It made Bonnie smile again; he was doing _so well_. Bonnie raised her palm to her mouth and sucked the bead of blood away, turning to watch Damon. Her face warmed when she saw that he was stripping off his ruined shirt, the muscles of his back rippling obscenely in the sunlight as he went. He looked like a sculpture.

“Damon?” He didn’t turn to look at her, only cocked his head to the side to indicate that he was listening. A moment later he stepped out of sight and Bonnie heard the shower turn on, water from the huge and stupidly luxurious showerhead raining down onto the tile. Damon would still be able to hear her. “Thank you.” 

Bonnie didn’t know herself if she was thanking him for removing her splinter or if she was thanking him for resisting the single strongest instinct a vampire had in order to protect her; for Damon putting her life first, for once. Something in her gut told her that she didn’t have to specify because Damon would know. It felt like he knew a lot about her, these days. Things that Bonnie never would have anticipated. 

With Damon washing off blood in the shower, Bonnie had to decide what she was going to do. The only matter that had been resolved so far was that Bonnie trusted Damon with her life. They still needed to discuss the logistics of how this was going to work. Just because Bonnie had implied that she was willing to do this for Damon didn’t mean that she wouldn’t have to say the words and make him hear her: _I want to let you feed from me._ Should she do that tonight, or should she sleep in the room that he had made up from her and discuss it in the morning? Her stuff was in there already anyway and It would probably be a good thing to get some distance from each other right now, even if it was only a few feet.

Damon had been successful at her impromptu challenge to not chase her but Bonnie surely still smelled like prey to him. That wasn’t even taking into consideration that Damon was making Bonnie feel curiously off-kilter with all of the touching. There was no denying that it went beyond basic comfort; somehow, there was genuine affection there. Bonnie was disturbed by how little she hated it.

Sleeping in different rooms should have been the obvious choice but the thought of waking up to absolute silence like she had that morning made Bonnie’s blood run cold. Her senses weren’t so good that she’d be able to hear him with walls separating them, but Bonnie tried to reason with herself. They would still be close to each other, for god’s sake! They would see each other in the morning and they could regroup then. And Damon could emerge from the shower as his usual snarky self and tell Bonnie to get lost. That was also an option. Just because he was being consistently nice to her today didn’t mean that this… cuddling thing was going to be the new normal. Right? _Right?_

Bonnie groaned quietly. Why was this such a hard decision? She barely liked the guy a week ago!

If Bonnie was smart she’d sleep in the other room, but lately it hadn’t been her brain calling the shots. Thinking of her _heart_ making decisions in relation to Damon made Bonnie overly warm and confused. She didn’t want to think about the implications of that at all. No. All she was considering here was the benefits of sleeping in the same room as him or sleeping alone. It made sense to stay here if just the thought of sleeping alone made Bonnie feel miserable, right?

It wasn’t like she was the only one being affectionate today either; if Bonnie hated to be alone, it was looking like Damon felt the exact same way. Decision finally made, Bonnie steeled herself and walked the few steps to close Damon’s bedroom door with herself firmly on the inside. If he came out of the shower and kicked her out that was okay, but Bonnie wasn’t in any rush to volunteer.

Except Bonnie had just put a door between herself and the bag of clothes she’d brought from her parent’s house, like a fucking idiot. She couldn’t open the door again now because Damon would _hear it_ and she didn’t want to answer any pointed questions. It meant that she would have to wear more of Damon’s clothes, but he hadn’t minded that morning so Bonnie could only hope that he wouldn’t care now. While the water continued to run she rifled through Damon’s drawers again - how did one person own so many black shirts and fitted Henleys? - until she found something resembling a pyjama set, a loose t-shirt and shorts. The material felt soft and more importantly warm, which suited Bonnie and her tendency to get cold at night perfectly. Bonnie quickly stripped out of her own clothes and threw them into a nearby hamper before trying to get the pyjamas on as fast as possible. Being more than half naked in Damon’s room with him so closeby felt infinitely more dangerous than changing in the middle of the room next door had. There was no way of knowing when Damon was going to - 

“That’s a good look, Bon-Bon.” 

\- be back. Typical. Bonnie tried not to jump at his sudden appearance back in the room and failed, heart hammering as she pressed a hand against her chest. It was lucky that she’d just finished pulling up the shorts - she’d had to roll the waistband three times to stop them from being laughably long on her - and she was thankful that she’d thought to put the shirt on first for exactly this reason. Maybe thinking of Damon as a cat when he had rubbed his face against her hadn’t been far off because he certainly moved as quietly as one.

Bonnie turned around just in time to watch Damon’s face as he clocked his closed bedroom door. She held her breath, waiting for him to make some snide comment, but Damon stayed blessedly silent. She felt intensely grateful that he wasn’t going to judge her for not wanting to be apart, even if being apart only meant a wall between them. It seemed like she hadn’t been wrong in thinking that Damon might need the closeness as much as Bonnie felt like she did right now.

None of that distracted Bonnie from the fact that he wasn’t wearing anything but a crisp white towel slung low on his hips. Bonnie found herself suddenly fascinated with the paneling of the ceiling; it really _was_ very intricate. What kind of wood was that, even? Had it been imported? It looked expensive. She could feel his eyes on her as she completely failed at playing it cool - Damon was no doubt wondering _why_ exactly she was wearing his clothes again when her bag was only fifteen feet away - before he chuckled, probably amused at her prudishness.

Well, screw him. Jeremy was the only guy who’d ever seen her naked and if she was still a little shy, so what? It certainly wasn’t her fault if her face was flaming when Damon looked like he did, either. Finding Damon intensely irritating for the years that she’d known him had never stopped Bonnie from finding him attractive, not that she was planning on telling him that any time soon, or _ever_.

The sound of Damon settling onto the bed - _he_ didn’t have to jump up, the dick - told Bonnie it was safe to end her inspection of the ceiling. He was thankfully wearing some tartan pyjama pants now; a quick glance down at herself confirmed that they matched her shorts, even if she had been courteous enough to wear a soft shirt with hers where Damon was bare chested. It was hard not to stare. Bonnie had to hold in her groan of frustration and not a small amount of embarrassment when she realized that she had taken off her bra on autopilot when she was getting changed. Well, too bad. She wasn’t going to put it back on, considering that that would only draw Damon’s attention where she didn’t want it. Damon already thought she was enough of a prude. Ignorant to her inner turmoil, the vampire in question patted the sheets next to him and raised an expectant eyebrow. 

“Come on, let’s get this sleepover on the road, Bon-Bon!” That stupid nickname again. Just like the majority of what had happened today, Bonnie didn’t hate it. What she _did_ hate was that Damon had gotten onto the bed first, which meant that he was on _her_ side. Bonnie grumbled as she was forced to circle the bed to the side that was closer to the windows.

Even though Bonnie only meant to have an afternoon nap, having to sleep on the wrong side of the bed would probably make her feel weird. It was too much effort to ask Damon to move and Bonnie glared preemptively at him before she did a little bunny hop to get up onto the bed, which of course made Damon laugh at her. “ _Little_ witch!” 

“Shut up, you dick.” 

Damon made her work to worm her body underneath the sheets in the way that she liked when she was sleeping by herself, not shifting his weight at all while Bonnie tugged the sheets out from underneath him so that she could make her usual cocoon of blankets. Bonnie didn’t let herself linger too long on the ridiculousness of their situation: that they were two people who were only just barely friends sharing a bed in a world where they were otherwise alone. And while they were obviously working their way towards some sort of friendship, Bonnie could admit that even when Damon was being a menace when he first returned to Mystic Falls she had found him magnetic in a way that she was never able to explain or justify to herself.

Bonnie had never told anyone - she _definitely_ hadn’t told Elena - that it was almost impossible for Bonnie to decide how she felt about him. That she was in a constant state of indecision: should she be running _away_ from him, or should she be running _to_ him? They hadn’t been in the place for three days and already Bonnie was finding herself falling squarely into the ‘running towards him’ category. It was hard not to, after spending time with him. After being affectionate with him. It was a realization that Bonnie wasn’t eager to examine too closely, certainly not when she felt a little delirious with the exhaustion that followed an adrenaline crash.

Finally settled in her nest of blankets and determined to ignore the confusing direction her thoughts had taken she looked over at Damon, unsurprised to find him watching her with an amused expression. She narrowed her eyes at him. Damon grinned at her and then looked away, his bright blue eyes becoming distant as he stared at the wall across from his bed. Well, if he wasn’t going to say anything, Bonnie would. 

“You’re going to have to feed from me, Damon.” Her voice remained steady when she said the words despite the way her heart had begun to beat a little faster and Bonnie was proud of herself. She could do this for him; she could do this for _them_. Damon hadn’t looked away from the wall, though, or given any indication that he’d heard her. Bonnie opened her mouth to repeat herself, maybe, or to phrase it a different way - I _want_ you to feed from me? - but Damon spoke, his voice so quiet that Bonnie had to strain to hear him. 

“I hurt you.” 

Bonnie didn’t have to ask what he meant because she was reliving the memory in technicolor for the second time that day: throwing Emily’s amulet into the air and watching it explode, Elena’s scream ringing out in the clearing moments later as Damon rushed towards Bonnie. The feeling of his hands clamping down on her upper arms as he leant forward, razor sharp fangs tearing into the soft skin of her neck to rip her throat out.

Yet no matter how hard she pushed herself to remember the exact details of that night, Bonnie couldn’t recall any pain. Surprise, for sure, and shock that her life could be ending so soon. Stefan had pushed Damon off of her almost instantly and bit into his own wrist to heal her; all in all it had been over in a matter of seconds. Bonnie had been terrified of Damon for what felt like forever, afterwards, but that felt so far away now. Like it was a completely different lifetime. The fact that Damon was bringing it up at all told Bonnie all that she needed to know: he felt guilty. 

Bonnie removed an arm from her cocoon so that she could extend her hand towards him. The only part of Damon she could safely reach in his stupidly large bed was his pyjama-clad thigh, so that’s where her hand landed. Damon jerked in place like she’d shocked him, eyes finally shifting from the wall to fall on her hand where it was pressed against the soft fabric of his pyjama pants. Bonnie had never touched a guy who wasn’t Jeremy so much, but this was a unique situation. People behaved strangely in unique situations.

Unique situation or not, Bonnie was at a loss of an appropriate thing to say. To say she forgived Damon… it wouldn’t have necessarily been the truth and Bonnie didn’t want Damon to hear the lie and doubt her conviction to go through with this at all. The tension in the room was thick and _awkward_ and Bonnie just wanted to dissipate it in any way that she could.

The idea that popped into her head was so dumb but it was a fun way of getting back at him for calling her Bon-Bon or little witch all the time, though she was beginning to hate the nicknames less and less as the time wore on. It helped that her idea might even have the added benefit of replacing the frown he was currently sporting with a smile, something that she never would have thought she’d have as a goal before today. Bonnie hid her smirk in the sheets around her neck as she squeezed Damon’s thigh once. 

“It’s okay, D. I trust you.”

Damon was silent for a second, then another. The urge to laugh was so strong that Bonnie felt like she was going to burst. Sure enough: Damon slapped her hand off of his thigh - so lightly she didn’t even feel it - and screwed up his face like he’d sucked on a lemon, the laughter that had been bubbling in Bonnie bursting out of her as Damon squawked in outrage. 

“D? _D?_ No, that’s awful!” Bonnie laughed even harder, on the verge of tears now. “What the fuck is that, Bonnie!” 

Damon could complain until he was blue in the face but Bonnie had been successful in her mission: the tension of before was completely gone from the room and she felt like she could breathe again. Bonnie continued to laugh and Damon stopped his yelling and looked down at her, faux-disgust giving way to a different expression that was harder to pin down. Amusement, no doubt about that, but maybe… fondness? To Bonnie’s exhausted brain that was definitely what it looked like. The sun was low in the sky now, the room pleasantly warm around them.

Bonnie felt the lightest she had in days, the sense of doom and gloom that had surrounded her when they first ended up in this place entirely gone now. Her laughter was finally beginning to taper off and she brought her arm back into her blanket cocoon as she grinned up at Damon, a matching grin appearing on his face moments later. The words were much easier to say a second time, even with Damon looking directly at her to watch her mouth form the words: “I do trust you, though.” 

Damon’s eyes became even more intensely focused on her face and Bonnie knew that he would be listening for a tick in her heartbeat to tell him that she was lying: he wasn’t going to hear one. Against all odds Bonnie _did_ trust him even if she wasn’t one hundred percent sure why.

Damon gave the slightest nod, acknowledging that she meant what she said. He leaned over the side of the bed and returned with _Call of the Wild_ \- it must have fallen when Bonnie had rushed to meet him - and he opened it, quickly finding the passage she had gotten up to. A strange warmth filled Bonnie then; he _had_ been listening to her read.

The tiredness that had begun to creep in earlier had returned tenfold and Bonnie was struggling to stay awake, so warm and comfortable wrapped in the sheets with the warmth of the summer day around her. She’d be asleep in no time at all, middle of the afternoon or not. They’d gotten the most important stuff out of the way; Damon knew where she stood and what she was willing to do for him. They could discuss the where’s and how’s of it later, when she felt more awake. 

Damon looked at her again and raised his eyebrows at the book as if to ask her if she wanted him to keep reading and Bonnie nodded minutely, barely a shift of her head against the softness of the pillow. That got shoved around too, punched into submission until Bonnie was as comfortable as she was going to get with Damon for a bed partner. Damon huffed a laugh as he watched her wiggle around before he found his place - her place - in the book again, his voice even and melodic as he began to read.

“ _Now and again men came, strangers, who talked excitedly, wheedlingly, and in all kinds of fashions to the man in the red sweater. And at such times that money passed between them the strangers took one or more of the dogs away with them. Buck wondered where they went, for they never came back; but the fear of the future was strong -_ ” 

In between one word and the next Bonnie was asleep, trusting the predator at her side to keep her safe.


	4. closer to me baby (I won't bite)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for Bonnie to feed the beast... but things don't quite go as expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from 'won't bite' by doja cat

**bonnie -**

Bonnie slept the dreamless sleep of the very tired. 

As she slowly made her way into wakefulness Bonnie panicked, squirming under what her sleep-addled brain told her were hands holding her down; it took a few seconds of futile wriggling for Bonnie to wake up enough to remember her self-imposed cocoon of sheets. Satisfied that she wasn’t in any sort of impending danger Bonnie groaned and rolled in place, trying to lessen the pressure of light on her eyes. What time was it, even? Too early for waking up, certainly. Now that Bonnie had shifted over she was pressed against a solid line of warmth that was more comforting than it was headache inducing, and she found herself drifting in and out of sleep. Getting up to start the day had never been her strong suit.

Sooner rather than later Bonnie felt more awake than she did asleep, her body aching with the need to stretch after so long tightly wrapped up in bed linens. Bonnie wriggled until her arms burst free of the offending material, eyes still closed against the brightness of the room. She straightened her legs until her toes were pointed and flung her arms out to complete her stretch but a hand caught her around both wrists, stopping her. Bonnie’s eyes burst open of their own accord as she flung her head back on the pillow to look; it was hard to tell lying down but it looked like Damon had caught her about a half inch off of whacking her hands painfully against the solid wood of his bed’s headboard. Wait. _Damon?_

There was no denying that Bonnie was fully awake now, body thrumming with alertness even as she made no move to tug her wrists away. Instead she allowed Damon to guide her wrists back down to rest on top of her pillow before he let them go, Bonnie turning her head to look at him properly. It didn’t look like he had moved at all from the position he had been in when she had fallen asleep, reclined against the headboard without a shirt on - it was strangely difficult not to stare - but now it looked like he was near to finishing the book. 

Damon smiled at her, sunny. “Morning, sleepyhead. You snore.” 

_Morning_? Bonnie hadn’t had any idea what time it was when she had fallen asleep to the smooth cadence of Damon’s voice as he read to her, but she would have put money on it being the afternoon. Bonnie rolled over quickly to look out the huge windows that lined the near wall of Damon’s bedroom to see that the sun had shifted position significantly. Damon wasn’t lying: it was morning. It was morning, and the warmth that she had been dozing happily against must have been Damon’s _leg_ and… she didn’t snore, what the fuck? 

“I do _not_ , you ass!” Her voice was loud in the room but Bonnie didn’t care; to say that she felt out of sorts would have been an understatement.

Damon only smirked and carried on reading, leaving Bonnie to look wildly around the room. How had she slept so long? She’d been tired, but she didn’t think she’d been _that_ tired… she remembered suddenly that vampires had a variety of abilities that she hadn’t had the privilege of seeing up close before, like being able to manipulate a person’s dreams. Since becoming the Anchor to the Other Side Bonnie’s dreams had been complicated and vivid, usually so intense and confusing that she woke up feeling even more exhausted than she had before she had fallen asleep, if the dreams themselves didn’t wake her up at two in the morning. 

Their first night in this place, when Bonnie had slept at her parent’s house, her dreams had been no different even though Bonnie wasn’t technically the Anchor anymore. Bonnie had dreamt about her friends walking straight past her, not looking her way no matter how much she yelled or cried out for them. It was half the reason why she’d panicked so much to wake up and find herself profoundly alone, the way she’d felt in the dream. It was more out of the ordinary that Bonnie _hadn’t_ dreamt anything that she could remember when her dreams usually stayed with her long after she’d woken up. That really only left one possibility. 

“Damon?” He _hmmed_ but kept reading, eyes darting along with the words. “Did you stop me from dreaming?”

His eyes paused on the page and stayed in the same spot, which was the only indication he was paying attention to what Bonnie was saying that he gave her for at least a minute. She was gearing up to poke him in the thigh when he finally responded, voice a little sheepish. “You started to dream but your heartbeat was all wrong, like you were panicked… it just seemed easier to make things quieter up there.”

When he said _up there_ he gestured around her head with the hand he’d used to catch her wrists and Bonnie found herself suffused with a warm feeling that had nothing to do with waking up wrapped up tight in bedsheets. When she’d had those dreams sleeping next to Jeremy, his first instinct had always been to try and touch her; Bonnie would invariably flinch away, helpless to stop herself, and Jeremy would be hurt and their morning would be ruined. 

Bonnie had never been able to decide if that was worse than when she would sleep at her dorm and wake in a panic to the sounds of Elena and Caroline sleeping peacefully nearby, entirely oblivious to the racing of Bonnie’s heart. 

That was just being alone in a different way, wasn’t it? 

While Jeremy and the girls could only attempt to comfort her after the dreams had already left her feeling detached and out of sorts, Damon had the advantage of being able to cut the dreams off at the pass before they ever caused her any harm. Bonnie was running out of fingers on one hand to count how many times Damon had done something _kind_ for her without her asking him to. Not that she had expected to wake up and change her mind, but Bonnie knew for certain now that her decision to feed him was the right one. 

Bonnie moved so that she was sitting up, her legs curled up beneath her. She and Damon had migrated close enough - no, _she_ had moved close enough to Damon in the course of the night that her new position meant that her knees were pressed into the solid and reassuring warmth of his thigh. Bonnie was willing to blame her migration towards him on the fact that Damon had stolen what was usually her side of the bed and not on what she was beginning to think was her own innate need for closeness right now, in this strange and unfamiliar version of the town that they had both lived in for most of their lives. Perhaps even on her innate need to be close to _Damon_.

Like he could tell that she was gearing up to have The Conversation, Damon didn’t play hard to get, instead putting a finger in between the pages as an impromptu bookmark so he could look at her properly. They were probably sitting closer than necessary but Bonnie was comfortable enough that she didn’t want to entertain the idea of moving. There wasn’t really a delicate way to start this conversation and Bonnie found herself staring at Damon’s face; the dark eyelashes that framed his stupidly bright blue eyes, the blush-pink of his mouth and his strong jaw, which looked more stubbled than she expected it to. It seemed ridiculous that vampires had to shave. 

Looking at him now, it was hard to believe that only hours earlier his face had been transformed by his hunger. It wasn’t something that she had ever really seen up close before; after his initial murder spree when he’d returned to Mystic Falls looking for Katherine, Damon had put himself on the straight and narrow when it came to feeding himself. Maybe she should have given him some more credit sooner. Well, no. He’d still been killing people whenever it suited him, but that wasn’t relevant right then. She knew what she wanted to ask him, suddenly. 

“Can you do the… the face thing?”

Damon raised a perfect eyebrow at her in a clear question - just the one eyebrow, too. He had probably spent hours practicing that in the mirror and the thought almost made Bonnie snort a laugh. There was little to no chance that Damon was incapable of guessing what she meant but Bonnie was in a good enough mood, courtesy of her lack of awful dreams, to humour him. 

Bonnie hooked two fingers in front of her mouth, faux-fang style, and hissed as dramatically as she was willing to let herself. Damon kept a straight face for all of two seconds before he broke and laughed loudly, shoving lightly at one of her shoulders and making her sway on the bed as she giggled along with him. It was _good_ that they weren’t going to turn this into some big, serious thing. That wouldn’t have been their style. Regardless of how Bonnie had felt about him at any given moment her first instinct was to snark and banter with Damon, a sentiment that he had always shared.

Between one laugh and the next Damon’s face changed and Bonnie’s breath caught in her throat. 

The skin underneath his eyes became dark with spidering veins and the whites of Damon’s eyes were consumed with an inky red; Bonnie felt helpless to look away. Damon opened his mouth to bear his fangs at her for the first time, his canines unnaturally sharp, and Bonnie was… she didn’t even know. Enthralled? Amazed? 

While she knew that feeding Damon was something she planned to do, Bonnie had expected to feel fear at seeing his face like this after he had tried to kill her once before, or at least something approaching apprehension. Considering most of the people that Bonnie kept company with were vampires she was more than used to seeing their faces do all of _this_ but it was another thing to see it so up close for demonstrative purposes rather than… _killing her_ purposes. Instead all Bonnie felt was curiosity.

Bonnie could hardly blame Damon when he seemed surprised to see her hands drifting towards his face, his head jerking back an inch like he couldn’t stop himself. Bonnie froze and looked at Damon closely. He didn’t look like he was going to lunge at her carotid artery any time soon and Bonnie learned by doing, okay? Bonnie wiggled her fingers. “Can I touch?”

Bonnie wasn’t even sure why she wanted to, but she figured that if those fangs were going to be getting up close and personal with her, she may as well feel them in a relatively safe setting first. Informed consent, and all of that. Damon continued to look at her warily for a moment before he relented with a nod, shifting around so he was sitting more comfortably in front of her. The warmth of him was as surprising as it was reassuring; Bonnie had either been wrong to expect that vampires would run colder than humans or Damon was a special case.

It wasn’t clear who gasped first when Bonnie’s fingers landed lightly on Damon’s face, but they both stilled for a second before Bonnie let herself glide her fingertips along the thin skin beneath Damon’s eyes. The veins made the skin feel raised and though they moved beneath her touch Bonnie couldn’t feel it, only the tickle of Damon’s eyelashes when he let his lids fall closed. Like looking at her as she touched his face delicately was too much for him. Elena had never mentioned doing this - and why would Elena, now that she was a vampire herself? - so it was possible that this was the first time that someone had touched Damon’s face when it was transformed in this way. Was it more sensitive? Bonnie had no way of knowing with Damon silent beneath her fingers.

Damon’s mouth had fallen closed a little but not completely as her fingers traveled gently across his skin. Could he not close his mouth entirely when his fangs were out? Bonnie guessed that would only be logical. Bonnie guided her hands to cup Damon’s jaw, her thumbs hovering over Damon’s mouth. He wasn’t breathing and it was impossible to tell if that was because he didn’t need to or if it was because of what she was doing. 

There was no doubt how this would look, if anyone were to be watching them; the intimacy of touching Damon like this wasn’t lost on Bonnie. It certainly didn’t help that Damon still wasn’t wearing a shirt, something that Bonnie was steadfastly ignoring. Just because she had gone into this with pure intentions didn’t mean that anything she had done with Jeremy had ever felt like _this_. Even if Bonnie had no idea what _this_ was.

At the first touch of her thumbs to Damon’s lips, Bonnie held her breath. Bright blue eyes burst open to capture her gaze and Bonnie was caught for a moment, the two of them staring at each other as seconds passed by. She had the idle thought that a bomb could drop right outside and neither of them would notice in this little bubble that they’d created for themselves. Damon’s mouth parted and Bonnie’s eyes followed the motion as she touched his fangs with her thumbs, immediately feeling stupid for the surprise she felt at the sharpness she found there: she’d expected the points to be… well, _pointy_ , but both of Damon’s canines felt primed to cut through glass. 

Damon’s hands came up to gently grab her wrists, guiding her hands away from his face and down into the relative safety of her lap. He didn’t pull completely away, turning his hands so that they cupped her own before he shifted a hand lower to rub at the pulse pounding away in her left wrist. Bonnie got that same livewire feeling that she got when Damon’s teeth flashed against her neck the night before. Now it feels like a sort of eagerness to Bonnie, though for _what_ exactly she isn’t sure. At the present time it’s mostly anticipation at what could happen. 

Damon doesn’t stop her from pulling away from his touch to lift her left arm until her wrist is suspended in front of his mouth, though he does close his eyes tightly like he wants to stop the veins from appearing beneath them. Bonnie hadn’t noticed that they’d disappeared in the first place. The warmth of his breath - when did he start breathing again? - against her wrist made the hair on Bonnie’s arm stand to attention even though the room was warm around them.

If she thought that Damon would just bite into the soft flesh of her wrist straight away she would have been wrong; he was making a habit of defying her expectations, lately. Instead of the savagery that she might have expected from him, Damon lightly held her left hand in his right as he stared intently at Bonnie’s face. His voice was soft. “Bonnie, you have to be sure. Not just now but any time later… you change your mind, you have to let me know. I won’t be mad.”

There was that same tender feeling again. Bonnie felt a little lightheaded with uncertainty at how this was going to go but at no point since she’d seen Damon open his bedroom door, bloodied from stopping himself from hurting her, had she doubted her decision. Bonnie had told Damon that she trusted him and against all odds she was finding that she _meant it_. She shifted her wrist ever so slightly closer to his mouth - to his _fangs_ \- and made herself smile at Damon, hoping it looked reassuring like she meant it to. “I’m sure, Damon.”

Damon tilted his head and Bonnie was confused for a second before she realized that he would be listening for a tell in her heartbeat again: a blip or irregularity that would tell him that she was lying. Uncertainty or not, Bonnie knew that Damon wouldn’t hear anything. Bonnie never thought she’d be asking a vampire to feed off of her but here she was, on the edge of her figurative seat waiting for it to happen. She was about to tell Damon to just get on with it instead of making her awkwardly wait when he opened his mouth wider to bear his fangs, his eyes not leaving hers as he rested them against her wrist. 

Bonnie made a small noise but she didn’t pull away - she didn’t even think she _blinked_ \- as Damon ever so gently sank his fangs into the artery of her wrist and began to drink. Damon wasn’t gripping her hand tightly and his eyes had drifted closed again, like he wanted to focus on what he was doing. Bonnie kept waiting for the pain to hit her. Maybe she was a little shocked, so her brain was delaying the pain receptors in her arm and it would hit her all at once any second now? 

That made more sense than what seemed to be the truth: she had a vampire’s teeth in her and it didn’t hurt. Bonnie opened her mouth to say as much and slammed it shut almost immediately as feelings began to overwhelm her, feelings that Bonnie wasn’t even sure were her own.

_Satisfaction. Joy. Admiration. Contentment._

Confusion washed through Bonnie. Was she feeling what _Damon_ was feeling? That wasn’t normal. Or if it was, no one who’d ever volunteered as a blood bag for a vampire in need before Bonnie had thought that was information worth sharing. _Elena_ had definitely never brought it up and Bonnie knew that Elena had fed Stefan before, when he was still getting used to drinking human blood in small increments. That didn’t even take into account whatever freaky shit Bonnie was sure Elena and Damon got up to in their spare time. 

Despite her swelling panic Bonnie didn’t feel any desire to pull away from Damon; against all odds she felt _comfortable_ right now. Were his emotions really bleeding over so much that they were calming her down? Some vampire voodoo, that was.

Damon disengaged himself from her wrist suddenly with a cough of a laugh before his tongue darted out to lick over the bite marks that Bonnie had never even felt. She watched in fascination as the little holes closed, nothing but the scant amount of saliva on her wrist left to indicate that Damon had ever fed from her. Vampires really didn’t advertise _that_ as a feature. Even that slight feeling of dampness got wiped away by one of Damon’s thumbs. When Bonnie looked at his face, he was grinning at her with his fingers beside his mouth like a cat cleaning its face. His fangs had disappeared.

“ _Freaky shit_ , Bonnie, really? How much of a prude are you, exactly? Was Little Gilbert not treating you right?”

The buzzing of static filled Bonnie’s head and she didn’t know if it was a result of the shock at Damon apparently _being_ _able to hear her thoughts_ or because the strange connection between them had broken when Damon had pulled away from her; if she’d ever been able to feel his emotions, she couldn’t now. Best to make sure that she wasn’t imagining things.

“Damon… I didn’t say any of that out loud.”

It was creepy to watch in real time just how _still_ vampires could become as Damon completely froze in place, thumb at the corner of his mouth like he had been about to wipe away an errant bit of her blood that wasn’t even there. Damon wasn’t a messy eater, surprisingly, considering that Bonnie had seen the gore he could produce when he ripped out someone’s throat. This was terribly tidy by comparison. 

Damon didn’t blink or breathe for what felt like forever but was realistically only fifteen seconds; seconds that Bonnie spent watching his eyes widen in shock as her own heart raced. So, Bonnie being able to feel what he felt and Damon hearing her thoughts definitely weren’t normal occurrences, then. 

“No, Bonnie, that’s not fucking normal!”

 _Oh_. He hadn’t even been drinking from her that time. Damon must have realized that at the same time as she did - or did he just hear her think it? It was hard to tell - and he scrambled away from her, almost falling backwards as his feet found the floor. Bonnie, by contrast, felt glued in place. She tried to feel what Damon was feeling and couldn’t, beyond the alarm clear on his face. How did this work? Could she only feel his emotions while he was feeding from her? Why could Damon still hear her thoughts even when he _wasn’t_ feeding from her? Was it because she was a witch?

“Is it because I’m a witch?” It seemed rude to expect Damon to carry on their conversation when Bonnie wasn’t actually saying anything out loud. Instead of answering her, Damon’s fangs reemerged - he made it look so easy, entirely painless - as he brought his own wrist up to his mouth. Bonnie’s eyes widened as she watched him bite down until blood began to flow, dark red against the paleness of his skin. A week ago Bonnie’s instincts would have been telling her to move away as Damon climbed back onto the bed, but something about the way Damon was acting told her that there was a method to his madness. It wasn’t like he could hurt her just with his blood, or at least that was how Bonnie was justifying her lack of alarm. 

They were almost in the same positions as they had been before, only now it was Damon who was lifting his wrist to Bonnie’s mouth, an almost blank expression fixed on his face. “Drink up, Bon-Bon.”

Damon’s accelerated healing was on its way to closing up the wound already and Bonnie’s window of opportunity was closing with it. Bonnie reached up to grip Damon’s arm, her eyes meeting his as she hesitated. It wasn’t because she was grossed out, though she thought she definitely _should_ be. She wasn’t a vampire and drinking blood should go against her very nature as a witch; she didn’t need it to survive and it was unnatural. Damon didn’t rush her, his eyes steady on hers, and why would he? If this worked like she suspected it did he was getting a front row seat to her thought process.

Bonnie opened her mouth to drink from Damon and his eyes widened like he hadn’t expected her to actually go through with it. Bonnie ignored him, bringing his wrist closer to her mouth and closing her lips around the sluggishly bleeding wound there. She’d just drink what little was left before calling it a day and waiting to see if she’d be able to feel Damon’s emotions again. As soon as Damon’s blood entered her mouth it was instantaneous: she could feel what he was feeling again. A strong combination of shock and awe flooded through her, a swirling mass of sensation that left her feeling warm as she swallowed once.

Bonnie had begun to pull away from Damon when the urge to _bite down_ overwhelmed her. Unsure if the surprise she was feeling was her own or Damon's, Bonnie was helpless to stop herself from pressing her miraculously sharpened canines through the thin skin of Damon’s wrist. Damon flinched hard in her grip, from pain or shock she wasn’t sure. 

A rush of blood entered her mouth and Bonnie swallowed heavily, eyes closing against the taste, before her actions caught up with her. What the fuck was she _doing?_ Bonnie’s eyes burst open and she shoved Damon away from her, not even registering it when he went flying clear off of the bed to land heavily on the floor because she was scrambling off of the bed herself. Her back slammed painfully against the wall behind her and Bonnie felt like she was going to pass out even as she felt more aware of her body than she ever had. 

God, she’d _bitten_ Damon. With… fangs? Bonnie’s hands flew up to her mouth to press at her gums, feeling the sharpness there. She could still _taste him_. A short scream ripped out of her before she could stop it, Damon’s head popping up above the opposite side of the bed seconds later as she slapped a palm over her mouth like she had a hope in hell - ha! - of hiding this from him. Bonnie had a feeling that he was already aware. All Bonnie could see of him was disheveled dark hair and blindingly bright blue eyes.

“Okay! Okay.” His hands were held up in front of him, palms forward, like she was a startled animal that he had to sweet talk. “Bonnie, we’ve got a bit of a problem.” Damon’s voice was strange. Bonnie realized that her panic was intertwining with his own, the feeling doubled inside of her. It was getting harder to hold herself up against the wall, dark spots beginning to fill the edges of her vision. Maybe she really _was_ going to pass out, which would just be the embarrassing cherry on top of this clusterfuck of a cake. 

Bonnie landed heavily on the floor, only faintly registering Damon’s appearance at her side; strong arms that caught her before she could slump too far to the right. The last thing that pierced her conscious mind was Damon calling her name repeatedly, the concern evident in his voice - and the emotions that Bonnie could feel swirling around in her that felt like _his_ \- making her smile even as the world went dark around her.

They had a problem, alright.


	5. you will feel a deep longing for something you can't quite remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Stefan would have never gotten himself into this situation, though. Stefan and his iron-clad morals would have never come as close to killing Bonnie as Damon had."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title is from 'world of tomorrow' by don hertzfeldt
> 
> this is another chapter that I have cut in half; the second part should be published in the next two days... and just quietly, I'm really happy with what's coming!

**damon -**

Damon blinked dazedly up at the ceiling from his new position on his back on the hardwood of his bedroom floor, which was exactly as comfortable as it sounded. Regardless of any discomfort Damon felt at the present moment, he mused that maybe Bonnie had been onto something when she’d been intently gazing at the carved wooden intricateness of the ceiling. The paneling really _was_ impressive.

Lying down was also easier than getting up. His wrist was still bleeding sluggishly even though it didn’t hurt at all - shock was one hell of a drug - and Damon’s chest ached. Had Bonnie cracked his sternum when she’d shoved him away from her? His breath rattled in his chest. Drinking his blood, especially so little, shouldn’t have made Bonnie stronger. Vampire blood healed humans, it didn’t… do whatever this was. Damon couldn’t even begin to guess. 

There was a faint _thud_ from the other side of the bed and though Damon couldn’t see her he’d guess that Bonnie’s back had connected solidly with the wall. Her heart was racing faster than Damon had ever heard it - faster even than the times Damon had been a Dick Extraordinaire towards her - a deafening roar in his ears that made it nearly impossible to hear anything else. 

He would have been content to take stock of the situation from where he was but Bonnie let out a short scream and Damon scrambled to right himself, peeking over the top of the bed like they were playing hide and seek and not, evidently, freaking out in tandem. 

Bonnie’s eyes caught Damon’s and she looked completely shellshocked, eyes so wide it would have been funny in literally any other situation. The fangs responsible for the holes in his wrist were still visible within Bonnie’s mouth and Damon couldn’t look away, half convinced even then that they were having, like, a joint hallucination. Stranger things had happened. 

It was clear that Bonnie’s panic wasn’t going to recede naturally so it was just typical that Damon had no idea what he could do to help her. How did Stefan do it? Did Damon need hero hair for it to work? He started to stand up, palms outstretched towards Bonnie. “Okay! Okay. Bonnie, we’ve got a bit of a problem.” The words had barely left his mouth when he heard Bonnie’s blood pressure dip sharply as her back began to slide rapidly down the wall; she was going to pass out, and soon. 

Damon leapt over the bed to get to her faster - the seconds it would have taken to dash around the bed seemed too long - and he barely caught her in time, her skin fever hot beneath his palms. “Bonnie? Bonnie!” Her thoughts were getting quieter and quieter in his head and Damon didn’t like it at all. The pounding of his heart was beginning to drown out the sound of hers and the panic in his chest was almost more painful than the feeling of healing bone.

Bonnie’s inner monologue had barely been a feature of Damon’s life for five minutes but he already missed it keenly. Damon could hear Bonnie’s blood pressure continuing to drop in real time and he had to grit his teeth and force himself to concentrate. 

He couldn’t come up with an idea in time and it was more distressing than Damon would likely ever be comfortable admitting when the only thoughts pinging around in his head were his own when Bonnie’s head finally slumped against his shoulder, out cold.

There would be time to examine this new feeling of loss later, when the little witch was awake. For now, Damon adjusted his grip on Bonnie so that he could carry her the few short steps back to his bed; her head slipped against his shoulder so that her face pressed against his neck and Damon’s heart gave a single traitorous _thump_. 

Damon chose to ignore that as well, dropping Bonnie as gently as he could onto the sheets so that he could stare at her. Her face was smooth, like she was just sleeping. Damon didn’t feel reassured because he had no idea what to _do_ in this situation. He didn’t know how to hero, that was Stefan’s job! 

_Stefan_ would have never gotten himself into this situation, though. _Stefan_ and his iron-clad morals would have never come as close to killing Bonnie as Damon had.

\-- 

When Bonnie ran from the kitchen Damon was at the entryway and right on her heels before he’d even processed the thought. It was a mammoth effort to catch himself against the doorway to stop his progress and the wood groaned and then cracked underneath the pressure of his hands; slivers of wood lodged themselves in Damon’s palms and the pain made him hiss at the same time as it grounded him. 

Damon could hear her heart racing as she pounded down the hallway, a yawning chasm of distance between them that Damon wanted so desperately to close. Credit where it was due, Bonnie didn’t smell strongly of fear like he might have expected her to. Adrenaline, certainly, but not fear.

Damon wished that it meant he wasn’t thinking of her as prey, but he was. God, he couldn’t help it. He was so hungry that his fangs almost ached with it and Damon groaned, bodily throwing himself backwards and into the kitchen proper. 

Never in a million years would Damon have expected this to be Bonnie’s response when he asked her to lock him up. Damon had thought it would be a no brainer for her: like this Damon was a danger to her _life_ and it was just common sense to lock him up. Bonnie would have peace and quiet to work on a solution to get them out of here, and she would be safe. 

Bonnie’s safety was something that Damon was beginning to prioritize, an instinct he didn’t care to question.

As much as the thought of desiccating slowly and painfully in the basement scared Damon, he would do it if it meant that Bonnie was alive and that he could be with Elena at the end of it. Damon knew that she deserved that much from him.

Of course when he’d opened his mouth to protest she’d quelled him with just a look. No one else had ever been able to do that so effectively, capable of making Damon shut up without a single word. It was a _talent_ , one that Damon prayed that Bonnie never taught anyone else. 

It should have occurred to him that Bonnie would have some harebrained idea, but hearing her say that she was going to run from the room - that she was trusting him not to chase her despite knowing that he was starving - was a bit beyond the pale, even for Damon. 

Before Damon could even begin to change her mind she was gone from the room and now here he was, sweating up a storm like he was running a marathon and not trying to stop himself from killing the one person he could maybe call a friend right now. Damon looked around wildly, trying to spot something - there. One of the wooden dining table chairs would have to do. 

Tearing it apart caused a rain of wood across the room but Damon didn’t pay attention to that as he positioned himself with his back against the stone of the fireplace. There wasn’t any time to hesitate - the thumping of Bonnie’s heart was like a drum in his ears - but Damon sucked in a quick breath before he staked himself to hearth. 

The wood burned as it went through the meat of his shoulder, bursting painfully through the skin of his back to embed itself in the solid grey rock that surrounded the fireplace. 

Fragments of rock rained down around him and Damon roared in pain in a way that he was sure sounded very rugged and manly. Bonnie’s answering shriek hit his ears not even a full second later and just like that Damon was free, the fresh hole in his shoulder gushing blood all over his nice shirt as he panted like a wild man in the room. Begging his feet to stay planted where he stood instead of carrying him to Bonnie.

It was easy as anything to hear that Bonnie had made it to the stairs. It was even easier for Damon to hear it when she stumbled - Damon was always telling Stefan that runners on the stairs were for old grandmas - and caught herself. Uncle Zach had always been lax about the upkeep of the staircase and Damon could have roared again when the smell of Bonnie’s blood flooded into his nose, thick like molasses in his mouth. 

Was she _laughing?_ Just like that he was at the doorway of the kitchen again, instincts screaming at him to chase her and claim what was _his_. 

No. Damon wouldn’t do that to her. He _couldn’t_. 

Bonnie was placing her complete trust in him. That alone was enough for Damon to try harder than he _ever_ had to ignore the hunger inside of him. If Bonnie could put her faith in him after all of the times that Damon had let her down, he owed this to her. It was what she deserved. He repeated it like a mantra in his head: do this for Bonnie, do this for Bonnie, _do this for Bonnie_.

Picking up a discarded piece of the chair he’d just destroyed in his failed attempt to become a mantelpiece decoration, Damon moved over to sit in the nearest seat. It was easier, this time. The stake went through the meat of his left thigh and pinned him to the base of the chair, the ensuing gush of blood ruining his jeans. He was going to need a new wardrobe after this. 

At least now he could concentrate on plucking the shards of wood out of his hands from the doorjamb, little pinpricks of pain that healed almost as soon as he’d pulled them out. With that handled Damon directed his focus back towards Bonnie and his forehead immediately creased in confusion; she had an entire boarding house to hide in and she was heading for _his room_? Understanding dawned seconds later when Damon heard his bedroom door slam shut, followed by the heavy _thunk_ of the lock. Elena must have told Bonnie that his room had one of the only locks left in the house that actually worked. Smart girl.

When Damon found himself unconsciously tugging against the stake in his thigh he grimaced. Bonnie had to know that a few inches of wood - admittedly thick wood - and a steel lock wouldn’t keep him away from her if he really went feral and tried to kill her. 

Bonnie was trusting that it would be; she was trusting that Damon would take it as a firm _stay out_. And while he knew that, his instincts didn’t: sometime in his introspection he’d managed to sit up halfway, wood dragging painfully through the muscles in his thigh. One determined yank and he’d be free. 

Damon looked heavenward and reached around on the floor until he found another jagged piece of wood to spear through his right thigh. It didn’t burn any less the third time. Effectively pinned in place like a dead butterfly in a museum, Damon listened. In ordinary circumstances, the distance between them plus the thick wooden door of his bedroom should have been enough to impede Damon’s ability to both hear _and_ smell Bonnie. No such luck. 

Bonnie’s heartbeat was a symphony in Damon’s ears, the smell of her blood trying to tempt him upstairs. His mouth was hanging open like he could already taste it and Damon closed it with a snap of his fangs. Damon only heard her move through his room once. Had she gotten onto his bed? He closed his eyes and willed himself to calm down, to control the urge to run right up there and burst through the door like a demented version of Superman to launch at Bonnie. 

Somehow, he managed to drift. As the pace of Bonnie’s heart slowed so did Damon’s desire to run to her, until he was breathing normally. Damon poked at his gums with his tongue and was surprised to find that his fangs had retracted completely. A cautious poke at his under eyes told him that the spidering veins that had been there minutes before had also receded. Damon blinked at the wall. Had Bonnie’s ridiculous plan actually _worked_?

No sooner had the thought formed in his head did Damon hear Bonnie’s voice drift down to him. 

Damon was immediately alert but not because hearing her had made his hunger return; it was like his instincts had shifted from wanting to feed from Bonnie to wanting to know that she was okay, that she was _safe_. He didn’t know what he’d do with himself if she said that she’d changed her mind right now. What she said instead devastated him almost as much.

“Damon, you did so good. Didn’t you? You didn’t chase me. You’re not going to hurt me, I know that now.” 

Why did hearing that make him want to cry? Praise from witches was something that Damon had always found hard to come by, but praise from _Bonnie_? That was a needle in a really fucking huge haystack. Being told that he’d done good and the confirmation that Bonnie felt like she could trust him with her life - because that was what she was _really_ saying - made Damon’s skin feel too tight in a way that wasn’t even close to bad.

He hadn’t tried to tug himself free of his painful prison in a good ten minutes, he figured. The urge to chase and kill Bonnie had completely disappeared but Damon didn’t trust himself just yet. Putting Bonnie at risk before he’d had the time to properly relax didn’t bear thinking about it if it meant Bonnie with her throat torn out on the floor. 

Damon heard the telltale thump of feet hitting hardwood that confirmed his suspicion that Bonnie had indeed gotten onto his bed, followed by her walking over to his bedroom door. Damon could hear her movements so well he may as well have been able to see her, her voice as clear as a bell when she spoke again. 

“So… I’m going to unlock the door.”

Damon blinked in disbelief at the sound of lock disengaging moments later. He could be through the door and on Bonnie in seconds and she _trusted him_. The knowledge was heady. In his relief Damon even found himself smiling at the sound of Bonnie’s hurried footsteps as she must have moved to jump back onto his bed. She might not be afraid of him, but her instincts knew better. 

He drifted a bit more in the silence for a while, until he registered the sound of her voice once more. For a moment he was confused about what Bonnie was saying until it dawned on him. He’d left _Call of the Wild_ on his nightstand and she was reading it from the very first chapter. Bonnie’s voice was steady, no trace of fear. Like she wanted to prove that she wasn’t afraid of him. 

God, Damon was in trouble. He just didn’t know what kind of trouble just yet.

Removing the stakes from his legs wasn’t going to make Damon’s ‘Top Ten Favorite Experiences’ list any time soon. Miraculously it felt like he’d avoided the wood splintering while it was inside of him because he couldn’t feel any little bits floating around in him. That would have been a real bummer in an otherwise successful afternoon. The light outside told him that it must be a little after five o’clock though it felt much later with all that had happened in just a few short hours. 

Bonnie’s despair and fear at waking up alone and Damon’s consequential desire to comfort her; the feel of her in his arms, so different to holding Elena yet so familiar. Running to the hospitals only to discover that something or some _one_ had gotten there before him, no blood supply to stop him from feeding from Bonnie. Begging Bonnie to lock him up only for him to shut him down and prove in the most dramatic way possible that she trusted him, trusted him enough to offer herself up as his only option for surviving in this place. 

Damon could still hear her upstairs reading, though her voice was much quieter. It wouldn’t surprise him if the adrenaline of the day completely wiped her out for twelve hours. Humans weren’t really built for this sort of high stakes stuff. Cleaning up the kitchen could wait for tomorrow but Damon did throw his makeshift stakes into the fire, the smell of his own blood filling his nose over the lingering smell of Bonnie’s. 

Whatever wound she’d received from her battle with the stairs had stopped bleeding some time ago but Damon could still smell it all the same, like she was holding the wound right in front of his nose.

That in itself was a little fucking weird. Vampires obviously had enhanced senses, blessed with better sight, hearing and smell than humans. While that was true, Damon didn’t think he’d ever been able to hear someone’s heartbeat so clearly before, even with walls and doors and _rooms_ between them. Damon could hear and smell Bonnie so clearly it was like she’d never left the kitchen in the first place. Damon could only assume that it was because he was so long in between feeding: his body must be pushing him to satiate himself.

Damon straightened the displaced runner as he made his slow way up the stairs. He could feel his legs healing slowly as he walked and it was an uncomfortable sensation, his muscles knitting themselves together with each step. If he had been feeding regularly like he usually did he would have healed almost as soon as he’d removed the stakes, but that was just how today was going for Damon. Nothing according to plan. 

In no time at all he was standing outside his bedroom door. Bonnie hadn’t heard him coming - her voice was still getting quieter and quieter as she got pulled into sleep - and Damon didn’t want to startle her by throwing the door open. 

Instead he turned the handle slowly and pushed the door open, Bonnie’s wide eyed gaze immediately landing on him. The sight of him had certainly woken her up, her eyes seemingly cataloguing all the places he was bleeding. Damon had to admit there were a few.

Still, he froze in shock when Bonnie came tumbling out of her little nest of sheets to practically _run_ towards him with her hands outstretched. Fuck, she was brave. Or stupid. Damon wasn’t sure. 

When Bonnie’s fingers tangled in the fabric of his ruined Henley Damon let himself collapse against her like his strings had been cut. Bonnie caught him, surprisingly strong - everything about her was a surprise to Damon today - and she didn’t even flinch when Damon immediately turned his face into the warmth of her throat. Bravely stupid or stupidly brave, Damon wasn’t sure. 

Bonnie might trust him but Damon had to prove this to himself: he wouldn’t hurt her, even with the temptation right there against his mouth. It was a tense few seconds of waiting but Damon’s fangs never pushed free of his gums, the urge to feed from Bonnie remaining at bay. The relief that swelled with Damon was huge. They could do this. Against all odds, it really was going to work.

When Damon had slumped against her one of his arms had curved up her back to cup one of her shoulder blades, the other winding around her waist so that he felt like he was surrounding her. She was so _little_. He dug the point of his chin into the muscle between her neck and shoulder and just _breathed_. 

It must have been painful for Bonnie because her hand wound its way through his hair moments later, tugging until Damon pulled back just far enough to look her in the face. Bonnie’s eyes darted over his features, a surprising amount of concern in her expression.

“Why are you bleeding, huh?”

Damon could see that Bonnie was cataloguing the ways that his face was different to before: no sign of the hungry vampire who had begged her not to run from him. The urge to press his face against Bonnie’s neck was still strong enough that he pulled against her grip on his hair - it made his scalp tingle pleasantly - to get his face back where he wanted it. Damon rubbed his face there without letting himself think about the strangeness of the action. 

Bonnie had been running from him, screaming in fear, only an hour before. How did they find their way here? The point of his chin found its way back to the muscle of her neck and Bonnie tried to tug him away again, laughing when he only dug his chin in harder in response. Damon grinned where she couldn’t see it. 

“Staked myself to the wall… then to a chair, when that didn’t work so hot.” They were pressed so close together that Damon’s mouth softly grazed Bonnie’s neck when he spoke and he wasn’t entirely certain that the sensation of his mouth against her skin didn’t cause Bonnie to freeze up in his arms. It could have been a reaction to Damon so candidly talking about maiming himself. Speaking of injuring oneself… “Why are _you_ bleeding, Bon-Bon?” 

Even though Damon had his suspicions - his senses were so heightened right now he’d practically watched her trip up the stairs - he still laughed to hear Bonnie confirm that she’d given herself a splinter. Damon could still smell the blood on her, though he didn’t think it was the hand she was currently using to play with his hair. It felt so nice, comforting in a way that he wasn’t used to. 

Damon adored Elena, but she was more like Katherine than he’d like to admit in that she wasn’t prone to fits of casual affection. Because that’s what this was: Bonnie and Damon were cuddling for all intents and purposes, curved around each other like brackets as she ran her fingers through his hair and he rubbed his face against her shoulder. Damon felt content, maybe more so than he had in a long while.

Nice as it was, they couldn’t stand like this forever. 

Damon pulled back and extracted Bonnie’s hand from his hair, giving her a smirk as he did so. He didn’t think it was his imagination when Bonnie’s pupils dilated slightly, but she was only human and Damon knew what his smile could do to people. Instead of saying anything Damon focused his attention on her other palm, the bright red spot containing the tiny shard of wood drawing his eye. 

It took maybe five seconds of poking at the skin around the wound for it to slide free of Bonnie’s palm, her little exhalation of air the only indication that it had hurt at all. The smell of fresh blood hit Damon’s nose but he steadfastly walked around the little witch and towards the bathroom. Pulling his ruined shirt over his head tugged uncomfortably at the freshly healed skin of his back; he felt crusty with his own dried blood and he desperately wanted a shower. 

Bonnie’s voice saying his name once more made him tilt his head though he didn’t stop walking, turning the hot water tap almost as far as it would go so that the sound of falling water filled the room. The floor was still damp from Bonnie’s own shower. The sound of rushing water didn’t stop Damon from hearing it when Bonnie thanked him and Damon found himself smiling at his reflection in the mirror. It was a funny sort of ‘thank you’: both for not killing her and for helping with the blister. 

The situation they’d found themselves in was absolutely fucking insane.

It was easy to ignore whatever it was that Bonnie was doing out in his room. If Damon was a betting man he’d probably place his chips on her choosing to stay here with him as opposed to moving to the room adjacent; Damon might have seen her bag in there but Bonnie still seemed vulnerable and scared to be alone. Personally, Damon could sympathize completely with that. Being alone was pretty fucking awful right now and Damon wouldn’t choose it himself. 

Dried blood scrubbed off, Damon turned the taps off and rubbed roughly at himself with the nearest towel before wrapping it around his damp body. He walked out of the bathroom just in time to catch Bonnie pulling up a pair of his ancient sleep shorts. It was probably a dick move to just let himself look for a moment but… yeah, he could admit that Bonnie Bennett was something else. 

“That’s a good look, Bon-Bon.”

The little witch jumped about a foot in the air, spinning to look at him. It was satisfying to watch her eyes widen at the sight of him before she steadfastly looked up at the ceiling instead of Damon’s towel-clad body. He laughed lowly. It had always been fun to rile her up and it was just as amusing to him now, in this place where it was just the two of them.

Seeing her wearing his clothes for the second time in one day was a surprise, though. Her own clothes were only a handful of feet away but she’d chosen some of his softer sleepwear, thankfully - thankfully? - not so oversized on her that they looked indecent and Damon felt… he didn’t know.

It was easy to distract himself with the sight of his bedroom door, closed against the rest of the house. Seeing Bonnie this side of it was a statement in and of itself and Damon knew that. With things as uncertain as they were Damon would have been in half a mind to ask her to stay with him had Bonnie chosen differently but now he didn’t have to, and he was grateful. 

Some - Katherine. - would say that Damon’s neediness was a character flaw but all evidence pointed towards Bonnie sharing it, not just her understanding it. It was a relief, to say the least. If she had persisted with staying at her childhood home throughout this Damon would have locked himself in the basement just to make the time go quicker, food supply be damned.

Damon went through his drawers, not knowing what exactly he was working so hard to find until - there they were, the matching pants to the shorts Bonnie was wearing. That would do. Damon threw the towel back into the bathroom and coughed out a laugh when Bonnie showed no indication of having noticed, so intent was she on staring at the paneling of the ceiling. 

Considering the warmth of the room Damon pulled on the pants and forewent a shirt, moving to arrange himself on top of his bedsheets with his legs crossed at the ankle and his back against the headboard. He picked up _Call of the Wild_ from where it had fallen when Bonnie had gotten up to run to him and stared at the girl - the _woman_ \- in question. 

At hearing him get onto the bed she’d finally lowered her eyes and Damon got to watch her expression as she clocked the pants that he was wearing, as well as the way her eyes lingered on his bare chest for a second too long. Damon watched as she glanced down at herself. Bonnie’s heart gave a solid thump that almost made Damon want to tilt his head in curiosity; no doubt she had noticed that their pyjamas matched, just like Damon couldn’t _not_ notice that she wasn’t wearing a bra. 

From the way she couldn’t even look at him in a towel it was an accident on her part rather than the deliberate seduction it would have been coming from Elena, or Katherine. Not wanting to wander too deeply down _that_ rabbit hole, Damon patted the sheets beside him.

“Come on, let’s get this sleepover on the road, Bon-Bon!”

The nickname didn’t even warrant a scrunched up face and Damon suppressed the smile that wanted to overtake his face: he knew he’d get her to like it eventually, it just happened much faster than he had been anticipating. Benefits of basically being isolated together. 

What _did_ appear to get him a scrunched up face was his position on the bed. Did she usually sleep on the right? She’d have to suffer because so did he; Damon wasn’t moving. His bed, his spot. Bonnie could deal. Bonnie circled the bed until she was standing directly next to it and she glared at Damon, which was only confusing for as long as it took Bonnie to literally _hop up_ onto the bed. There was no containing his delighted laugh and his declaration of “ _Little_ witch!”

Bonnie’s glare hardened. “Shut up, you ass.”

Her faux-annoyance - and Damon would put _money_ on it not being genuine - didn’t stop him from continuing to grin at her as she tugged at the sheets until she could get beneath them. It was like watching a nature documentary as Bonnie squirmed around, tucking the sheets around her until she’d basically made herself an at-home straight jacket with just her head peeking out the top. Just looking at her like that made Damon feel sweaty and _not_ in a fun way. Had she forgotten that it was practically summer, here?

Damon couldn’t just stare at her forever and he looked away, losing focus as his eyes settled on the wall across from him. Bonnie trusting him enough to not lock him in the basement, but trusting him enough to put her life in his hands? Literally? Damon wasn’t sure that he could ask her to do that. 

Like she could sense his hesitation - and maybe she could - Bonnie spoke before Damon had worked up the courage to tell her that they’d find another way that wouldn’t put her in danger.

“You’re going to have to feed from me, Damon.”

Hearing her say the words made Damon’s fangs tingle in his gums and Damon worked to ignore the feeling. All he could think of was the last time he’d come at Bonnie in full vampire mode with the intention of killing her. Way back when he was trying to get Katherine out of the tomb and she’d destroyed Emily’s necklace right in front of him. 

Damon would like to say that he’d blacked out with rage but that would have been a lie; he was fully aware and in control of his actions when he’d rushed forward and tried to rip Bonnie’s throat out. _Tried_ wasn’t adequate either, considering he’d mostly succeeded before Stefan had ripped Damon away from Bonnie. The memory made him feel nauseous. Bonnie was just opening her mouth to speak again when Damon made himself force out the words, as redundant as they were:

“I hurt you.”

Bonnie was silent. She was silent for so long that it was Damon’s turn to jump when one of her small hands landed on his pyjama-clad thigh. Damon tore his eyes from the wall to look at where her hand was warming his thigh so quickly it hurt it hurt his brain a little. Her heart wasn’t racing and her breathing was steady; she was _touching_ him, for fuck’s sake. 

Damon didn’t know what to do with that. 

How would things have been different for them, if Damon had never fucked up so royally? Bonnie had avoided him like the plague for the longest time after he’d tried to kill her and Damon hadn’t tried to change her mind about him because her opinion was completely justified. ‘Nice’ wasn’t one of his default settings; Damon had to warm up to someone before he remembered to treat them decently. He was a collection of character flaws. Bonnie’s little hand squeezed his thigh and Damon held his breath.

“It’s okay, D. I trust you.” 

Incredulity flooded through Damon, once the static had cleared from his brain. No… Bonnie _hadn’t_. Nicknames were his thing! Bonnie giving him a nickname at the current moment was shocking in itself but shortening his name down to a single letter should have been a punishable offence, what the _fuck._

Damon felt like he was going to throw up but in the best way, if that was even a thing. Bonnie was practically shaking with mirth beside him and Damon swatted her hand off of his thigh.

“D? _D?_ No, that’s awful!” Bonnie lost the battle of containing her laughter, the sound filling the room around them as she rolled around in the bed like she was just _delighted_ by all of this. “What the fuck is that, Bonnie!” 

Damon watched her laugh. His guilt at having hurt her was still there but it didn’t feel quite so all-consuming, now. Not after Bonnie had touched him so gently. God, had they really hugged twice today? Damon had never touched her so much before but both hugs had felt entirely natural and organic, like it was something they’d spent their entire lives doing.

Bonnie sucked her arm back into her blanket prison and looked up at him as her laughter gradually tapered off. Damon couldn’t look away from her, a storm of feelings swirling around inside of him. While he’d been wrapped up in Elena, Bonnie had grown up into quite the woman. Bonnie smiled at him and Damon’s answering grin didn’t feel the slightest bit forced.

“I do trust you, though.”

Bonnie’s voice was steady. Damon knew that at this point he could probably take everything that she told him at face value considering it she would know how foolish it would be, to attempt to lie to a vampire. Damon found himself wanting to make sure all the same.

Just like earlier her heartbeat was impossible for him _not_ to hear, no head tilting necessary. It was as steady as her voice had been. No skips or stutters that would tell Damon that Bonnie was being dishonest. All he could do was nod to let Bonnie know that he believed her. 

It was obvious that the events of the day had exhausted her by the way that her eyes were already mostly closed, her features half smoothed out by sleep. Damon picked the book back up and found her place. A raise of his eyebrows was enough for Bonnie to know what he was asking and she nodded sleepily, hair getting mussed against the pillow that she’d claimed for herself. Damon usually slept with two but he didn’t think sleep was on the cards for him tonight; Bonnie could keep it for now. 

As he began to read aloud the words that were as familiar to him as his own name, Damon tried not to think too hard about what tomorrow might bring. One thing was for sure: he had to tell Bonnie about their potential cohabitant in this place, especially if whoever it was had an inkling that Damon was a vampire. The ripped blood bags suggested it was more than an inkling, but Damon was willing to remain foolishly positive on that front.

Damon also had a feeling that his burgeoning hunger would be getting addressed in the morning, which he was tentatively looking forward to.

A quick glance at Bonnie told him what his ears already knew, which was that she was fast asleep with the afternoon sunlight draped across her. With the deep breaths of the truly tired filling his ears Damon settled in for hours of reading quietly to himself - complete silence would have felt cloying, oppressive - keeping vigil over the sleeping witch beside him. 

\--

Bonnie’s face was slack, just like it had been when she was sleeping beside him in a manufactured dreamless slumber not an hour earlier. Damon watched her chest rise and fall with her breath for a minute, two. Though her heartbeat had returned to normal almost as soon as she’d passed out Damon was finding it difficult to look away from her, anxious to see the little witch open her eyes.

It had barely been thirty seconds since Damon had caught her in his arms and he was impatient, resisting the childish urge to nudge her until she came to. Damon consoled himself with the knowledge that it didn’t look like Bonnie was having another nightmare, or like she was dreaming at all. Damon didn’t know if their… connection had been severed when she’d fainted or if her mind really was just that quiet right then but he was willing to wait and find out when Bonnie woke up.

Staring at Bonnie without really blinking was starting to make Damon feel like a grade-A creep and he forced himself to look away even as his ears stayed attuned to the barest change in her breathing and heartbeat. What Bonnie didn’t know she couldn’t wallop him for. 

Damon’s interference in her nightmare was one thing he would have been happy for her to _not_ know about but of course she was far too astute for that. It was just a good thing that she’d been thankful instead of mutinous; Damon knew that he’d overstepped a boundary by granting himself access to what could be one of her deepest insecurities. 

It just figured that an insecurity at being ignored and entirely alone was one more thing that they shared.

The memory of the nightmare that had made Bonnie shrink within herself washed over Damon. When he had placed his hand as gently as possible on her forehead the details of it had drifted to him in fits and starts as he made himself focus inward: Bonnie was standing in the middle of her dorm room, surrounded by their friends. 

_Elena_ was there and Damon’s attention had snagged helplessly on her, watching as she threw her head back in laughter at something Stefan said. Caroline was there, as were Jeremy and Enzo. 

The sound of a not-door opening had drawn Damon’s attention away from Elena - it had felt like a blessing - and Damon had watched as a dream version of himself moved past Bonnie to stand beside Enzo. Bonnie’s eyes had followed dream-Damon and then flicked between where he stood and Enzo, seemingly ignoring everyone else entirely. 

Confusion has tugged at Damon and felt the same curiosity looking at Bonnie’s still form in the softness of the morning light. Even in our dreams we attach ourselves to the people we loved. Why hadn’t Bonnie focused on Jeremy, or Elena? Damon still hadn’t come to a satisfying answer.

The dream had been so uneventful that Damon had thought he must have misread the sleep-scrunched expression of anguish on Bonnie’s face that had led him to intrude in the first place. The dream had been run of the mill, nothing so concerning that Damon had felt compelled to force Bonnie into wakefulness. It was maybe a little strange that Bonnie hadn’t tried to move towards any of their friends, but dreams were strange things by nature.

He had begun to lift his fingers from her face, to quietly and painlessly excuse himself from the dream, when dream-Bonnie had moved towards Jeremy at last. Damon’s palm had settled back down against Bonnie’s forehead without his permission, his curiosity once more getting the better of him.

Damon had watched as Bonnie’s mouth moved like she was trying to speak but no sound had come out and Jeremy ignored her entirely, continuing his conversation with Caroline like Bonnie didn’t exist. Bonnie’s expression had cracked in two, something like devastation bleeding through for a moment before Damon saw her square her shoulders. Defiant even in dreamland, was Bonnie Bennett. 

She had moved towards Elena and Stefan and tried again, reaching out this time to touch them. Without ever acknowledging Bonnie, Elena and Stefan had shown Bonnie their backs and continued to talk and laugh.

It had become obvious to Damon then, why exactly Bonnie’s subconscious was perceiving it as a nightmare, because his own nightmares were exactly the same: being surrounded by the people he cared about and loved, only to be ignored as if he didn’t exist. He knew then that he and Bonnie were more alike than they would likely ever want to admit. 

They were just two people, more broken than anyone knew, desperate to be cared for in a permanent way. 

Nothing could have stopped Damon from moving towards Bonnie, wading against the current of the dream. She had begun to wave her arms with her mouth open like she was shouting, though Damon couldn’t hear her, right up in the faces of Caroline and Enzo. Tears were tracking down her face and Damon had to - he had to reach out for her, grasping her arms to turn her towards him. Bonnie blinked at him, through him, unseeing. 

Damon didn’t need her to see him to make this work. 

He tugged her forward in an echo of his same action that morning, encasing his arms around her as he tucked his face into her hair. There was no easy way for him to shield her from the loneliness that she was feeling but he could shield her from the dream, concentrating on erasing it from around them until they were suspended in a calming black void of space. 

It was difficult to determine if crafting a new dream around them - one based on a cherished memory, maybe? - would only upset Bonnie further, by reminding her of what she couldn’t have anymore. Damon remembered his own dream about not being able to comfort Elena and decided against it. The past couple of days had been stressful enough; Bonnie could use a restful sleep. 

When he had stepped back from Bonnie her tears had stopped and Damon watched her look around for a moment before she faded from his view; he had ended the dream, so there wasn’t anything for him to walk through or meddle with. It had taken a strange amount of effort to remove his hand from the warmth of Bonnie’s skin. He watched her for a time; from what he could tell the rest of Bonnie’s sleep had been dreamless and restful, her mind entirely calm. 

Damon’s own mind felt like it was raging for hours afterwards, the book forgotten in his slack grip, as Bonnie breathed softly at his side.


	6. hope is a heartache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Maybe they’d just spent so long being antagonistic towards each other that they’d never realized it could be… like this. Whatever this was."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really happy with how this chapter came out and I hope it can bring a smile to some of your faces in these uncertain times. Chapter title is from the song 'hope is a heartache' by LÉON, which is a very Bamon song, if you ask me.
> 
> For a masterlist of places you can donate to (even if you don't have the money, right now!) to support the Black Lives Matter movement, you can visit [here](https://poguesgold.tumblr.com/post/619746026049421312/how-to-donate-to-blm-when-you-have-no-money) and/or [here](https://passivity.tumblr.com/post/619575065640583168/passivity-heres-a-link-to-a-google-sheet-of)!
> 
> As always, you can find me on tumblr at [@bonbennett](http://bonbennett.tumblr.com/). I'd love it if you could follow me there - I'm always up for a chat, about TVD or anything else! Stay safe everyone 💗

**damon -**

It was harder than Damon would have ever thought it would be to keep his hands off of Bonnie. 

Twice now he had had to stop himself from gently touching the softness of her hair; to suppress the urge to smooth it out from where it had fallen, haphazard, around her face when he had dropped her on the sheets. Her heartbeat and breathing were steady but her eyes were still behind her lids, a constant reminder than she was unconscious and not dreaming like the tranquility of her expression would suggest.

Damon alternated between sitting beside Bonnie with their hips pressed together and pacing at the foot of the bed while keeping her in his sightline. Any change in her breathing made him freeze and stare, waiting for her green eyes to open; three times now Damon’s breath had caught in anticipation only for the little witch to remain exactly as she was. 

It was time alone with his thoughts - loud in his head without Bonnie’s to mingle with - that was leaving Damon awash in sensation, a pillar of remembered touches and tenderness from the one person he never would have expected to receive those things from. The bite mark on his wrist was healing slowly and Damon was thankful for the continued connection to her, the way it felt necessary to him right then.

The trust implicit in Bonnie’s sleepy migration over to his - her? - side of the bed during the night had made Damon aware of his body in a way he had never been before. Damon should have moved away but the closeness was _nice_ and he had always been selfish, and greedy; he had always taken more from people than he rightfully should have. It was easy to convince himself that moving would have only woken her up and so Damon had indulged himself, reveling in the warmth of her even through the barrier of the bedsheets.

As Damon’s internal clock ticked over to the second minute of Bonnie being unconscious - time felt stretched and sticky, like molasses, moving slower than he’d ever felt it and certainly slower than he’d like it to - he began to pace again, flexing his hand against the remembered feeling of Bonnie’s dainty wrists held in his grip. They had been so small in his hands that Damon had been tempted to _squeeze_ , ever so gently. Just to see what Bonnie would do. He had been able to feel her rabbiting pulse just beneath the surface of her soft skin and the way that Bonnie had relaxed in his grip had made his skin feel too tight, like it was another kindness from her that he hadn’t earned. He had deflected with a joke and tried to continue reading but the words had blurred in front of his eyes. 

Damon was finding it almost as easy to touch Bonnie as she was finding it to let him.

Though it had somehow become a foregone conclusion that Bonnie would offer herself up as Damon’s own personal buffet, it had been nearly impossible to conceal his shock when she had asked him to put on his vamp face for her. Damon had played dumb just to buy himself some time, mind racing for reasons he hadn’t quite understood at the time. Bonnie knew what vampires looked like when they were hungry - she’d seen _him_ that way only last night - so why did she want to see it again, so up close and personal? It hadn’t made any sense. 

Bonnie’s imitation of his vamped out face had made him let out a genuine laugh though, one that she had matched. Damon had watched her for a moment before biting the bullet, changing his face quickly so she couldn’t change her mind, cataloguing the change in Bonnie’s expression. 

Damon had thought that she’d just look, so he had flinched back when she extended her hands towards the parts of him that could kill her. Bonnie had frozen, had asked him if she could touch, and Damon hadn’t known if he’d come out the other side of that unscathed. His second of hesitation had been fraught with indecision, but he had never done what was good for him before so Damon hadn’t seen any sense in starting so he had nodded instead, rearranging himself so they were somehow sitting even closer. Each point of contact felt overwarm even as they felt essential.

The first touch of her fingers on his face had been so gentle that he had barely felt it yet it had almost broken Damon; his gasp was concealed within Bonnie’s own. Her touch was so light and almost reverential that Damon had to close his eyes against it but that was so much _worse_ ; every caress was a feeling magnified tenfold, sparks of sensation that he felt in his toes.

Nothing could have stopped his eyes opening at the first gentle touch of Bonnie’s thumb to his mouth. His eyes had met Bonnie’s and all he could see there was _wonder_ in its purest form; Damon didn’t think that anyone had ever looked at him like that, before. Once he’d look at Bonnie he felt like he couldn’t shift his eyes from her face, a rabbit caught in a snare. The world was so silent around them that Damon had the sudden and strange thought that they were suspended in time in their own personal snow globe, out of reach from everything else.

Damon had let his lips part and Bonnie’s eyes darted down to watch the movement, both thumbs hovering over his fangs like she was working up the courage to touch them before she did so, gentle as anything. Bonnie had winced at the sharpness and Damon would have smiled if doing so wouldn’t have put Bonnie’s fingers at risk. 

Instead he had slowly raised his hands - no use startling her into an injury either, even if the blood _would_ have landed in his mouth - to grasp her wrists, guiding them down into her lap. He had let go of Bonnie’s wrists to cup her hands instead, thumbing idly at the pulse in her left wrist. It was strong and steady underneath the pressure of his touch and Damon felt hooked by the sound of it: _thump th-thump thump_.

Everything was a bit of a blur, after that.

Bonnie reassuring him that she was sure and Damon hearing the truth of it in her heartbeat. Pressing his fangs against the paper thin skin of her wrist and letting her watch him do it, waiting for her to change her mind… then biting down when she didn’t. The first taste of her blood in his mouth had been euphoric. He had been near to starving, sure, but witch blood always tasted different, better, a warmth and spiciness to it that made human blood seem horribly bland by comparison.

Damon’s focus had narrowed so much that she had almost startled him by speaking. All that really existed to him right then was Bonnie sitting in front of him and her blood in his mouth; it felt a little like bliss. Damon only paid attention at all because her voice sounded funny, echoing strangely, like she was underwater or maybe stuck down a well. Even when he concentrated he had only been able to pick out fragments of what she was saying. She had asked him if feeding a vampire always felt like _this_ and Damon had declined to respond because he hadn’t known. He hadn’t really made a habit of conducting a satisfaction survey from the people he usually fed from.

Undeterred by his reluctance to pull away from her wrist Bonnie had kept talking, mentioning that Elena had told her about feeding Stefan when he was still getting used to drinking human blood. Bonnie had emphasized again that no one had told her feeding a vampire felt like _this_ but Damon had frowned; he was trying to enjoy himself, why did Bonnie have to harsh his vibe? It had been bad enough listening to Stefan brag about that at the time. Damon kept drinking. He felt more like himself and Bonnie’s voice was steady though it was still strangely echoey and she hadn’t started to sway into him yet; they were both fine.

Damon had had to draw a line at the comment about the quote-unquote ‘freaky shit’ that he and Elena got up to in their spare time: if he hadn’t taken his fangs out of Bonnie’s wrist he would have snorted blood up his nose, unable to contain the laugh that wanted to burst out of him at that. _Freaky shit_? Fuck, Bonnie was precious. _And_ maybe more of a prude than Damon had first thought.

Bonnie's eyes hadn’t left him as he’d licked over the bite marks. Damon watched contentedly as the tiny wounds closed themselves over before he had wiped at the corners of his mouth; he wasn’t a brute so he knew he’d eaten cleanly, but it never hurt to make sure when the food was still alive and ready to judge him. His fangs had retracted back up into his gums and Damon had grinned at Bonnie, working hard to stop himself from laughing at her outright.

Even now Damon couldn’t stop himself from giggling - in a very manly way, _thanks_ \- at the memory. He stood by his remark that Little Gilbert must not be treating her right if that’s how she was talking… or thinking, as it were. Guys with that much muscle never knew how to use their dicks right. 

It was hard to forget the panic that had consumed him when Bonnie told him that she hadn’t said any of what he thought he’d heard out loud. Once Damon could hear past the ringing of his ears, his first instinct had been to assume that she was lying. He’d stopped breathing, that much he knew. Hard to remind his lungs to perform a normal human function when Bonnie had just dropped an anvil on his head.

It had been tempting to find a building to throw himself off of when Bonnie had said - when she’d thought - her next question, asking him if it was normal that she could feel what he felt. He’d been feeling particularly mushy when he was drinking from her, for god’s sake! Damon had felt naked then, like Bonnie had seen more of him than he would have willingly shared. When he had told her that that definitely wasn’t normal, what the fuck, they had both realized that Damon could still hear her thoughts at the same time; Bonnie’s eyes had widened at the same time as Damon had thrown himself backwards off of the bed. 

Offering Bonnie his bleeding wrist instead of running for the hills had been an inspired decision. 

Feeling vulnerable or exposed or not, Damon wanted to get to the bottom of things even if it meant Bonnie would literally be able to read him like a book. From what little data they had, Damon had reasoned that it was probably blood-sharing related. Once he had drunk Bonnie’s blood he could hear her thoughts, but her ability to feel his emotions went away as soon as he had stopped feeding. Damon had wanted to know if feeding Bonnie would make the connection two-way and right then it was the only ‘science’ he’d had.

The fangs Bonnie sprouted had been a surprise, like stepping out into traffic and almost getting cleaned up by a bus would be a surprise. Damon had been as unable to say anything as he had been to look away from her. All he could think was that he’d been right: Bonnie made a gorgeous vampire. Feeling her bite down to properly drink from him had lit Damon up inside in a way that he had missed as soon as Bonnie had wisened up to what was happening and pushed him away.

Just as Damon moved to rub the mark her fangs had left on his wrist Bonnie finally shifted on the sheets, her eyes slowly blinking open. Damon was sitting beside her on the bed again in the very next breath, hovering with his face barely five inches from hers. He was _worried_ , okay? 

The thought that Bonnie might just die of fright and leave him here alone was one that he had no interest in entertaining for longer than a second. It was barely seven o’clock in the morning and today was already shaping up to be worse than yesterday, and that was saying something.

If Damon cared to he would have shifted backwards slightly as Bonnie’s eyes regained focus but she didn’t flinch away from him at all, only blinking lazily at finding him so close. Her thoughts slowly began trickling back into Damon’s head and he almost slumped over her in his relief. That answered that then: it wasn’t necessary for him to drink from her again because their… connection, or whatever it was, hadn’t been reset when she’d passed out. When things had settled back down to the usual level of _batshit insane_ he’d have to remember to mention it to Bonnie.

For the moment neither of them moved or said anything and Bonnie just blinked up at Damon, her thoughts a resounding chorus of WHAT? Damon could certainly empathize with that, considering his own thoughts have been running around in circles in his head ever since Bonnie passed out. Speaking of...

“How are you doing there, Bonnie?”

It was like his voice brought Bonnie fully back to herself. Her thoughts became a roar of panic in Damon’s head as she remembered in vivid technicolour what had led her to pass out in the first place: surprise fangs and a little bit of shared blood between friends. Apparently shouting could translate telepathically: the volume behind her thought of _I FUCKING BIT YOU_ almost sent Damon falling off of the bed again. Bonnie’s hands shot up to poke at her gums but her fangs were gone, like they had never been there in the first place. Damon found himself doubting if the last five minutes had happened at all. Maybe this place really was making them go insane?

No matter how much Damon might want to think that, the pleasantly aching throb of his wrist told Damon that it _had_ happened, that Bonnie really had drank from him. It took a few seconds to realize that the swirling feeling of relief floating through him and making him sway into Bonnie wasn’t his own, or at least it wasn’t only his; Bonnie’s ecstatic litany of _thank god_ at finding herself fang-free once more was echoing in his head. 

Hearing Bonnie’s relief projected so clearly into his head inspired a second wave of relief to wash over Damon, a feeling that he immediately wished he could conceal from Bonnie. It seemed a little early in the piece to be standing on an imaginary soapbox and declaring just how vulnerable he really was and exactly how thankful he was to see her okay. While that was true, it didn’t change the fact that Damon was being allowed to experience the kind of closeness he’d always wanted to share with another person.

You couldn’t get much closer to someone than being able to hear their thoughts, or feel what they felt.

Feeling a double dose of such a strong emotion at once was apparently enough to drive Damon to distraction, because he barely registered Bonnie relaxing into the sheets beside him. They were touching from hip to knee now and one of Damon’s hands was braced on the bed on Bonnie’s other side, loosely penning her in. Containing her somewhere Damon could keep her safe, for a degree of _safe_. 

The notion of moving away came and went as fast as it took Damon to register the relative quietness of Bonnie’s thoughts for what it was: she was content. Bonnie not wanting to move away from him wasn’t even the strangest thing that had happened in the last two days. They’d just shared a bed, after all, even if Damon hadn’t slept a wink.

Damon looked into the green of Bonnie’s eyes and her thoughts immediately became sharper and louder in his head. That was probably worth mentioning, too. All Damon could tell so far was that this connection wasn’t interrupted by a brief bout of unconsciousness, and it seemed to be stronger when they were looking directly at each other. He opened his mouth to say as much, but the question that came out of Bonnie’s mouth stopped him in his metaphorical tracks.

“You’re… relieved?” 

Damon blinked at her. Blinked at her some more, then _thwapped_ her hip with his hand. “‘You’re relieved?’ What are you even saying!” Bonnie’s face split with a grin as her eyes sparkled with mirth. Fucking minx of a girl. ”Of _course_ I’m relieved, Bonnie! Humans are so fucking fragile -” Bonnie snorted then, an entirely inelegant sound that made it hard to continue without laughing himself, “- and I can’t have you up and dying on me!”

The combined warmth from sitting so close and from Bonnie’s thoughts in his head - it was impossible _not_ to know how pleased she was right then - was making Damon feel drunk, like he was already on his fourth bourbon of the day and not completely sober and pressed up against a witch he would have called his frenemy two weeks ago. Damon knew that it was the type of feeling he could get addicted to because it was the exact type of feeling that he spent every day chasing. 

It was the same feeling that made him pursue Elena even when he knew it would destroy Stefan and now Damon found himself literally shifting away from it, putting distance between himself and Bonnie. Some _necessary_ distance. How Damon had forgotten that he wasn’t wearing a shirt, he didn’t know. Bonnie had been so focused on his face when he was feeding from her that Damon hadn’t realized how… inappropriate all of this would look to someone else. To Elena. 

Damon shifted so that his leg wasn’t pressed against Bonnie’s anymore and she frowned. Just like that all thoughts of decency were gone from Damon’s mind and he moved back towards her in a blind panic, like he wasn’t even in control of his body. _Sorry_ was right on the tip of his tongue when he noticed that Bonnie wasn’t paying attention to him at all, her head tilted at an odd angle and her eyes on the closed bedroom door. Now it was his turn to frown. “What -”

“I can hear someone in the house.” 

Ah. Damon had wondered when that was going to come and bite him on the ass. _Chomp_.

\--

There was no part of Damon that doubted that Bonnie was telling the truth even though he couldn’t hear anyone in the house no matter how far he tried to stretch his hearing, moving as little as he could and giving up on the illusion of breathing so the sound wouldn’t distract him. All that Damon could hear was the reassuring thumping of Bonnie’s heart… which slowed down to almost nothing as Damon concentrated on it. 

Damon’s eyes darted to Bonnie - irrationally panicked that she had managed to keel over dead sometime in the last thirty seconds - to find that she was sitting as eerily still as he was; Bonnie was barely breathing and her heartbeats were spaced out, like a vampire’s would be. Like Damon’s were. Somehow, Damon doubted that _now_ was the best time to tell Bonnie.

Not when Damon was remembering the state that the blood bags at the hospital had been in, packaging torn to shreds and long dry blood crusted into the floor. Guilt rolled through him because he should have told Bonnie when he had the chance the night before; if nothing else it would have helped to explain why he was so desperate for the little witch to lock him up. It felt like a lifetime ago now. 

_What aren’t you telling me, Damon?_

God, she was smart. Bonnie didn’t even know yet that whoever they were stuck in this place with had an inkling that Damon was a vampire and she was still quick-thinking enough not to say anything out loud, just in case the Universe was _really_ laughing at them and the invader had enhanced hearing. It probably helped that she would be able to feel his guilt over not having brought her up to speed sooner as keenly as Damon himself felt it; this little connection of theirs definitely wasn’t looking like a bad thing, if it was going to make communicating so much easier. Damon found himself smiling at Bonnie despite the precariousness of their situation.

Bonnie had said that she could feel his emotions, but since she’d regained consciousness there hadn’t exactly been an opportunity to ask if drinking Damon’s blood meant that she could hear his thoughts now too. Damon tried to arrange them into something understandable - _meant to tell you, there’s probably someone here with us oops fuck_ \- but Bonnie only kept frowning at him. Damon was about to try again when Bonnie disappeared from underneath him, the impression from her body in the sheets the only thing Damon had to reassure himself that she’d ever been there in the first place. 

Damon blinked accusingly at the spot where she’d been. “Oh, I hate that. I don’t like that at _all_.” 

What sounded like a vase smashed against the floor downstairs, managing to sound painfully expensive as it did so. Damon didn’t care, because it told him where Bonnie was: he was there too, barely a blink later. She was running for the open front door almost faster than even his vampire eyes could track and what the _actual fuck_ was going on?

Damon dashed for her, managing to catch her mid-leap just in time to stop her from making it halfway across the lawn, chasing after whoever she’d heard in the house. The strain of the movement almost over extended the muscles in his arms and Bonnie wasn’t making things any easier, yelling and squirming around and kicking wildly. It was like trying to contain a hurricane and now was definitely the worst time to remember that she wasn’t wearing a bra, and that he was still shirtless. 

“Hey! Fucking -” Bonnie squirmed harder, screaming for Damon to let her go. Was he imagining the lisp in her voice? It would make sense for the sudden vampire whoosh out of his sight to go hand in hand with the reemergence of Bonnie’s fangs. As annoying as it was, it was looking like her squirming was justified because if Damon could hear the snapping twigs and branches in the forest beyond the manicured lawns, so could she. “Bonnie! Stop fucking squirming, will you?”

Keeping Bonnie still should have been easier, considering her tininess. But Damon was tilted back in an effort to keep her feet off of the ground, and if Bonnie squirmed any harder they were going to crash onto the grass in a pile of limbs and pain. She was _strong_ , way stronger than she should have been as a human, or as a witch. Bonnie felt like she was one good kick away from Damon being forced to let her go: she was nearly stronger than him, and he was an 180-year old - give or take a few years - vampire. 

Whatever this was, it wasn’t a regular person juiced up on vampire blood. It was something entirely new.

The crashing sounds from the forest were getting quieter: whoever had been in the house was long gone, now. In all of her annoyingly successful wriggling Bonnie had shifted in his grip so that Damon’s arms were tight around her hips instead of her waist and he loosened his hold on her enough that she slid closer to the ground, leaving her left ear level with his mouth. 

As dryly sarcastic as he could manage, which was pretty fucking dry, Damon said against the shell of her ear, “If you’re quite finished, Ms Bennett?”

Bonnie scoffed and jerked her head to the side, causing a glancing pain in Damon’s nose that was there and gone in almost the same instant. It made Damon drop her all the same, the grass compressing lightly beneath her feet as Bonnie landed on it. She looked out towards the forest and Damon hovered his hands over her arms, ready to grab for her again if she made another break for it. 

He was grateful when she didn’t; it had been so hard to hold onto her at all that Damon was beginning to think that catching her before she ran off in the first place had been dumb luck. If Bonnie decided to run for the treeline now, Damon wasn’t sure that he’d been able to catch her a second time.

“You couldn’t hear them?”

Damon pulled himself from his thoughts and looked down at Bonnie, spinning on his heel to follow her when she walked past him to head purposefully towards the house. He trailed dutifully along, pausing only to pick up the day’s newspaper: same date as yesterday. What a shocker.

The kitchen was in shambles from the whole furniture-throwing-and-improvised-stakes schtick he’d pulled last night - Damon hadn’t been in a mood to clean up - and Bonnie picked around the debris delicately with her bare feet towards where the grimoire was still open on the kitchen table. It was at an odd angle, like whoever had been in the house had touched it. 

Damon leaned against the doorway, which creaked ominously. He’d need to fix that. “I didn’t hear anything until their ungainly jaunt through the forest, no.” Bonnie _hmmed_ like she was listening, though she was staring down at the grimoire with her patented Frown Face on. “What could you hear?”

“A heartbeat.” Damon blinked. How could she hear a heartbeat downstairs, from his room? His blood had given her the whole nine yards, it seemed. Fangs, of course, but also the speed, strength and hearing that came with being a Creature of The Night(TM). Bonnie was taking it all strangely well, her brief fainting spell notwithstanding. Damon let his amazement and confusion speak for themselves because he had no idea what to say in the face of that. Bonnie saved him by continuing on. 

“What happened at the hospital?” Bonnie didn’t even sound mad, which was more confusing than anything else. He must have made a face because Bonnie sighed at him. “It’s hard to be mad at you for not telling me earlier when I can literally feel your guilt, Damon.” 

Huh. Unexpected perk! Damon shrugged, all _what can you do?_ “I still should’ve told you last night but… well. You were there.” Hard to forget running from a starving vampire. “Every blood bag I could find had been torn into, ripped to shreds with a knife or something else sharp. It was already dry on the floor. Either whoever we’re in this place with was hedging their bets, or they know I’m a vampire.” 

_Holy shit_. 

“That pretty much sums it up, yeah.”

Bonnie’s thoughts were racing in a handful of different directions, a cacophony of noise in Damon’s head that made it hard to concentrate. They settled back down to something more bearable when Bonnie looked at the grimoire again, squinting to read the writing. “This is open to a different page to what I had it on, look -” Bonnie pointed at the page heading, a scrawling and almost indecipherable script that looked like it might’ve said _Ascendants_ , but it could have also said _Apricots._ Damon couldn’t really tell upside down. “I was trying the most basic stuff yesterday. This is like, senior witch stuff… they could be a witch, Damon.”

“That’s… probably not good.” Damon moved around to stand beside her, swearing when he stood on a sliver of wood from one of the broken chairs. _Dumbass_ floated into his head, which he chose to ignore. The page she was pointing at had lots of complicated drawings of something with what seemed to be a multitude of mechanical parts and Damon reached out to tap the page, once, twice. “Ah yes! This is… I’ve got no fucking idea what this is, Bon-Bon.”

Pause for laughter…. Bonnie didn’t indulge him and Damon rolled his eyes. Maybe her sense of humour needed a coffee first, before it could properly develop? Damon walked - much more carefully this time - over to the decade-appropriate coffee pot and set about filling it, turning it on with a flourish before he started opening the cupboards to look for where Stefan had hidden the good mugs. 

_Damon!_

He barely turned in time to catch the huge book flying in his direction, fumbling with it before clutching it against his chest so he didn’t accidentally take out an eye. “Bonnie, what the fuck! Give me a warning next time!” 

Instead of an apology, which would have been _nice_ , Bonnie only grinned at him. She looked a little manic in a way that made Damon feel nervous. Her thoughts were a confusing scramble in his head, drenched in her delight, too difficult for Damon to even attempt figuring out at this hour. Damon bared his very human teeth at her and raised an eyebrow, classic _what’s so funny_? 

“You’re touching the grimoire.”

Damon’s eyes snapped down to the dusty-smelling book he was currently cradling like an infant before he dropped it with what he’ll call a dignified yell until the day he finally croaks it. Bonnie caught it before it could hit the ground, showing off her new vamp speed like she’d been a vampire her entire life and not for fifteen minutes, max. Damon pressed himself against the kitchen counter like that would protect him from whatever nonsense was going on right now. 

“It should have hurt you to touch it, Damon.” 

Damon threw his hands up in the air and winced when he hit his knuckles against the wood of the cupboard door. “I _know that_ , Bonnie!”

Now it was Bonnie’s turn to roll her eyes at him. She blessedly made her way back to the table and set the evil book back down, but she was pulling an unlit candle closer to her and somehow Damon didn’t think that was going to bode well for him. Wait, why were there feathers all over the floor and how had he missed that before? “ _Incendia_.” Bonnie’s voice was steady and sure but still nothing happened, which wasn’t anything new. Bonnie confirming his suspicions by asking _him_ to try lighting the candle certainly was.

“What do you mean, ‘try’? I’m not a witch, remember?” 

No one should look so sassy with a hand on their hip while wearing pyjamas belonging to their best friend’s boyfriend at eight o’clock in the morning, yet as usual Bonnie defied expectations. Damon tried not to get distracted by how much of her collarbone was showing through the oversized neckline of _his_ shirt and mostly succeeded. “And I’m not a vampire, smartass!”

That brought Damon back to the situation at hand. The little witch… vampire? Witchpire? Had a point. Their completely-not-kinky blood sharing experience was definitely having some decidedly weird side effects, so there was no telling if Damon had developed some latent witch power as a result. Even if that were true, it didn’t make Damon want to _do it_. He pouted at Bonnie.

“Damon…” 

Somehow she packed so much stern disapproval into just that one word that Damon pushed away from the counter, eyes directed so far heavenward that it was a miracle that he didn’t injure himself. “ _Fine_ , but you’re not allowed to be mad at me when it doesn’t work.”

Bonnie didn’t say anything else, she just pointed at the candle with one of her little fingers and waited. Damon grimaced. Half of his hesitation was because of his not-so-secret prejudice against witches. He was a vampire and it was practically in the contract to dislike them and be distrustful of everything they did. While that was true it didn’t change the fact that if he concentrated he could feel Bonnie’s witch blood flowing through him. It was enough to get him to reluctantly open his mouth to form the word, unfamiliar and clunky on his tongue. “ _Incen-”_

The wick of the candle caught with a deceptively cute sounding _pop_ , the little flame taunting Damon as it danced around in the jar. Bonnie was eerily still for the second time that morning and Damon could tell that she’d stopped breathing again. He thought, a little hysterically, if when the Other Side had exploded maybe he _had_ died and all of this was just some sick cosmic joke. He pointed at the merry looking flame accusingly and shouted loud enough to make Bonnie jump where she stood. “No!” 

The candle went out with a sad splutter… and so did the electricity in what sounded like the entire house. Damon slapped his hands against his face and dragged them downwards as he groaned. 

Once his hands passed his eyes he could see that Bonnie was staring at him, her disbelief plain on her face as she blinked slowly at him, and Damon blinked back at her for a moment. Blinking was about all he could manage, because what was there to say? A little blood between sort-of-friends and she was a strong vampire and Damon could do magic without saying any of the witchy mumbo jumbo that was usually required. Must be a Tuesday! 

Without another word he headed for the fuse box in the basement. 

Even if he could turn the electricity back on just by willing it so, or whatever, he didn’t care to. The clink of crystal from the kitchen told Damon that Bonnie had swerved past the coffee and straight towards the liquor, which seemed like a sound choice. They weren’t alone in this place and they had new powers… it had been a big morning and they hadn’t even had breakfast. Flicking the power back on took two seconds max and Damon whooshed back upstairs to time for Bonnie to hand him a mug of coffee that was - god, it was basically bitter bourbon. Damon threw it all down the hatch in one big mouthful.

Damon gave her, and the grimoire open on the table, a wide berth. Just because he could apparently do magic now didn’t mean he wanted to be anywhere near the stuff. Opening the carton of eggs in the fridge revealed empty spaces where the eggs from yesterday - today? - should have been, considering the whole same day, every day thing they were enjoying. Could this place get any worse? “So we’re reliving the same day, but the eggs don’t just reappear? This is why magic is bullshit, Bonnie.” 

He didn’t get a response but Damon hadn’t really expected one, moving about the fridge and cupboards to get together the ingredients for another pancake breakfast. The same roll of guilt that he’d felt doing the exact same thing yesterday made itself known and Damon felt it when Bonnie looked up at him. She could still feel his emotions, then. Great. Instead of asking him what was wrong like Stefan or Elena would have, Bonnie just looked at him for a moment longer before going back to the grimoire. Damon’s shoulders relaxed from where they’d unconsciously bunched up around his ears. 

They worked in silence for ten minutes - Bonnie taking notes from the grimoire and Damon trying to both cook the pancakes more _and_ less than he had done last time - before Damon presented Bonnie’s breakfast to her with a flourish. He’d fashioned a vampire face, fangs included, on top of her stack from some whipped cream and blueberries he’d found hiding in the cupboard: her grimace at the sight was entirely worth it even if her response made Damon want to stab himself with a fork: 

“Oh, that’s real cute, _D_.” 

“Don’t be gross, Bonnie.” A grin flashed across her face as she picked up one of her pancakes and bit into it, head at an angle in an attempt to save the grimoire from crumbs. It was a token protest and now they both knew it; their new connection was no doubt tattling on Damon, letting Bonnie know that no matter how gross he said she was being, he was pleased. Closeness was currency, to Damon.

Damon had to conceal his jerk of surprise - but were there secrets between them, anymore? - when Bonnie’s legs inserted themselves between his own as he sat down across from her, like seeking out this constant close contact was normal for them instead of being completely out of left fucking field. As Damon willed his heart to behave and beat normally, he realized that it _did_ feel normal. It _did_ feel easy and casual to touch Bonnie like this, and to hug her when she was scared. To, in turn, feel her arms wrap around him as he fought off bloodlust more intense than he’d ever felt it. 

Maybe they’d just spent so long being antagonistic towards each other that they’d never realized it could be… like this. Whatever _this_ was. 

Contemplating _that_ mess could wait until Damon had eaten his pancakes, which were marginally more edible after his first cautious bite than they had been on his first attempt. Bonnie certainly seemed happy enough with hers, even if she had smeared his vampire artwork into a creamy mess. She started to talk with her mouth full, which skirted the line between _endearing_ and _gross_. 

“This ‘ascendants’ stuff…” So it hadn’t been apricots, then. “It’s confusing. It’s maybe a trap? Or it could be a prison thing.”

“Kinky.”

Bonnie pulled a face and threw a blueberry in his direction, which Damon ducked his head to catch. Bonnie snorted and Damon grinned, squeezing Bonnie’s knees between his own. He wondered if his good mood was something that Bonnie could catch in the way that her earlier relief had doubled the feeling of his own.

“I just can’t figure out why you can do magic now -” Just like that his good mood was gone and Damon groaned, his head thunking heavily down onto the table and narrowly missing his pancakes, and his plate. “- or why I have… fangs. Wait.” Damon turned his head against the wood of the table to look at her with one eye and waited. “Do _you_ still have fangs?” 

Fuck, what if the manifestation of his gross witchy powers had fried the vampire out of him? Damon sat up fast enough to give himself a head rush and willed his fangs to drop down, slumping in his seat when he felt them immediately respond. Poking at one with his tongue proved that his canines were just as sharp and deadly as he remembered and Bonnie watched his mouth with fascination. 

“You make it look so easy…” Damon was about to make a crude comment about he didn’t even know what when Bonnie wrinkled her nose in concentration, her own fangs popping out moments later. Another scrunch of her face and they were gone. She looked adorable, like a baby bunny... if bunnies had razor sharp murder teeth. The mental image _that_ produced made Damon grin at Bonnie anew.

“So we’re both sort of vampires! That’s fun, right?” Bonnie threw another blueberry at him, considerably harder than the first. It bounced off of his nose and onto the floor, where it rolled sadly towards the ruins of the fireplace.

“It would be more fun if I could do magic!” 

Damon tilted his head to the side, conceding the point. Just because he could do magic now didn’t mean that he had any idea how to get them out of this place. If Bonnie could get her powers back, Damon would put good money on them being out of here in no time at all. “Maybe all the death you absorbed as the Anchor sort of fried your mojo a little? The balance of life and death and all that bullshit, right? It could recharge.” 

Bonnie _hmmed_ like she was considering it, a chunk of pancake poised in front of her mouth. “Could be. Only one way to find out!”


	7. to keep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Trust him to get used to the feeling of a witch poking around in his head enough to miss it as soon as it was gone."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (part 1 of a chapter I've split in half - the second part should hopefully be out in the next two days!)
> 
> With these next two chapters we've reached the end of what I'd already had written and edited. I can't really commit to a strict updating schedule but I'm going to try for Thursdays! Whether that's every week or every second week will really depend. Feel free to hold me to that by chatting with me over on tumblr at [@bonbennett!](http://bonbennett.tumblr.com/)
> 
> As always any comments (or kudos!) you could offer are so hugely appreciated.

**damon -**

That was how Damon found himself unceremoniously kicked out of the kitchen - after Bonnie had permitted him to clean up his broken furniture and fireplace mess, as well as the pile of feathers she refused to look at - so she could focus on trying to find her magic again. Damon would have stayed to watch but Bonnie had glared at him and said that his ‘snide commentary’ wouldn’t have been helpful, which… fair. A few impromptu cuddles weren’t going to iron the asshole out of him. 

It had been heavily implied that Bonnie expected him to entertain himself for the day, so Damon moved about the rooms of the house looking for something to do. The nineties - especially 1994 - were a decade that Damon had worked reasonably hard to forget. He lingered at the closed door of Uncle Zach’s room but couldn’t stomach the idea of actually touching the door handle, let alone going inside. 

Just the thought made his stomach roil with guilt and Damon physically recoiled from the door, desperate to get away before Bonnie could question his sudden change in emotion.

Damon knew that he wouldn’t be able to dodge Bonnie’s curious looks forever; his insistence on making pancakes for breakfast, and refusal to go near certain areas of the house were both things he knew that she would ask him about eventually. Damon was on borrowed time and he knew that but it didn’t make the idea of making himself say the words _I killed her_ any more palatable. 

No. For now, Damon would play it safe and start his day off in his own room, and avoid Bonnie and any questions she might have. Could he even lie to her, now? Damon wasn’t in the mood to test it.

First thing’s first: Damon was about an hour and a half overdue for putting on a shirt, or at least however long it had been since Bonnie had woken up and asked him to drink from her. He could still feel the phantom warmth of Bonnie’s body as she squirmed against his bare chest and while that wasn’t a bad thing, necessarily, it was definitely distracting in a way he wasn’t eager to examine just yet. Or maybe ever. It was barely ten in the morning and the air was already warm enough to forego his usual jacket.

As he walked from his room he saw out of the corner of his eye the bag Bonnie had brought from her house lying on the floor of the bedroom that he’d initially made up for her. Without giving it too much thought Damon reached in to grab it, turning to throw it into his room. It landed at the foot of his bed and bounced once before settling. Bonnie could still decide that one sleepover was enough for her and move her stuff into the other room, and if it came to it Damon wouldn’t object. At least now, Bonnie would know where he stood without him having to say anything. Or, God forbid, without Damon having to ask her to stay in his room with him outright.

Damon ignored the pleased feeling that manifested at the sight of the bag on his bed and whooshed from the room and into the belly of the house, in search of something to do.

Venturing into Stefan’s room brought with it heartache and an old football.

Damon picked it up, a small smile forming on his face. He remembered the night that he and Stefan had spent throwing passes to each other on the field, drinking bourbon in between catches. It hadn’t been a week and he already missed Stefan like a limb. How was he doing, back in the proper Mystic Falls? Damon prayed with every part of himself that Stefan’s humanity was still on. Damon didn’t like the odds of anyone being able to get Stefan to flip his switch if he’d gone Dark Side.

Instead of letting himself linger on the feeling of sadness or the worry about what might be going on back home for too long, Damon dashed outside and threw a pass. Damon ran to catch it, repeating the motion back and forth until even he felt sweaty and worn out. From the position of the sun in the sky he’d guess that he’d wasted another two hours, with Bonnie’s colorful swearing at her failed attempts at magic keeping him company from within the house the entire time. Some of the language was almost enough to make Damon’s hair curl at the same time as it was making him snigger.

Damon flopped onto his back on the grass, squinting his eyes against the glare of the sun to watch the clouds scud across the sky for a while. 

When the sky began to darken with the day’s eclipse he raised his middle finger to it, inordinately annoyed that the Universe was so determined to fuck with him. He heard Bonnie laugh from inside the house, laughing to himself seconds later when her _I saw that_ filtered into his head. It was the first time all morning that Bonnie’s thoughts had veered away from straight up annoyance but Damon resolved to give her a bit more space before he gave into his boredom and went to pester her. 

Though some would argue differently, he _did_ know when to pick his battles… mostly when it suited him. Not only that, though: Damon would put money on Bonnie’s powers coming back right in time for her to set his ass on fire if he went inside and asked her to entertain him before she was well and ready. He was fond of his ass!

Yet… Damon _was_ curious about how far their new Cosmic Connection would actually stretch. It didn’t feel any weaker out here on the grass but it was only scientific to start from the source, Damon reasoned, so he whooshed back inside to stand beside Bonnie. Her hair was everywhere like she’d been running her hands through it and her glare when she turned it on him was particularly frosty, so Damon made it quick. There was no sense staying long enough that she might decide to start throwing things at him. He gave her some jazz hands for effect and said, “Ignore me! I’m doing science!” 

Bonnie called out his name as he whooshed from the room but Damon ignored her, determined to test their connection now that the idea had formed in his head. Focusing on her heartbeat was easy - he’d been doing it absentmindedly all morning - and he started to move about the rooms of the house outwards from the kitchen, until he’d covered every square inch of the place. The volume of Bonnie’s heartbeat in his ears never lost or gained volume; the _thump th-thump thump_ stayed steady regardless of how many stone walls and heavy doors separated them.

It was _weird_. Damon had never been able to focus on a heartbeat so completely before, not even Elena’s.

Damon made his way back out into the yard and like before Bonnie’s heartbeat didn’t get any quieter, and her thoughts were the same distracting yet reassuring babble in the back of his own head. Her thought of _why won’t you light, you mother fucker!_ told Damon that she still wasn’t having any luck with the candles.

By the time he’d made it to the treeline Damon figured that he may as well make a proper experiment of it while Bonnie was busy throwing the grimoire across the kitchen, so he started picking his way through the forest and making for the town. The sound of Bonnie’s beating heart followed him, only becoming marginally quieter when he was halfway into town though he could still hear it, faintly. A soothing whisper of sound.

Damon considered turning back then - sue him, he felt calmer with Bonnie’s heartbeat loud and steady in his ears - but Bonnie’s thoughts were even harder to shake. They were definitely easier to decipher when he was looking her in the eyes, but he could still hear her circling inner monologue bouncing around his brain as he headed closer to Mystic Falls proper. 

If he could hear Bonnie’s heartbeat at such a great distance it only made sense that Bonnie could hear his own heartbeat with her new vampire perks, so her curious _what are you doing?_ popping into his head didn’t even startle him when Damon was about to walk into the nearest grocery store. 

Damon tried to send _gone thieving be back soon_ her way, but her annoyed-sounding _Damon!_ after a minute had passed told him that it hadn’t worked. Weird that she could only feel his emotions and he could only hear her thoughts, but they could experiment with that later. 

Damon tried his best to project reassurance her way as he walked through the electric doors, which slid open easily for him like nothing was out of the ordinary. It was eerie to be inside, all of the lights on and the freezers buzzing against the back wall, when it was so devoid of human life. Or at least Damon hoped it was devoid of human life because he hadn’t come prepared to fight whoever had torn up the blood bags at the hospital and broken into the Boarding House… maybe he should have thought this out more. 

Story of his life, honestly.

It was too late to turn back now and Bonnie would probably be annoyed if he told her that he’d come all this way and didn’t grab anything. Damon grabbed a basket and rested it against one hip as he made his way down the aisles, getting extra eggs and a few cartons of milk. What sort of hell place repeated the same day over and over again but insisted on the replenishment of food stuffs? Magic really _was_ bullshit.

That being said, Damon had to bend to its will or face the wrath of a hungry Bennett witch. He picked up another loaf of bread, as well as some fruit and cheese. Damon was contemplating the benefits of homebrand orange juice or the good stuff with bits in it - maybe he could try projecting his thoughts into Bonnie’s head again, to ask her? - when Bonnie’s stream of consciousness went silent in his head, the sound of her heartbeat going quiet almost immediately after. 

The ensuing silence was deafening. Damon’s ears were ringing and his heart stopped beating entirely for a moment as terror lanced sharply through him, his eyes unfocused on the line of freezers in front of him. When her thoughts showed no sign of coming back into his head and the only heartbeat he could hear was his own erratically beating one he dropped the basket, groceries going everywhere, and ran for the house faster than he knew he was able.

There was no being careful when whoever had destroyed the blood bags could be with Bonnie. 

Branches whipped against Damon’s face as he ran through the forest, the quickest route to get him back to the house, but he barely felt the sting and the cuts healed almost in the same instant that they formed. The afternoon sun was lighting the forest strangely, shapes jumping out at him and making him flinch even though he was as alone out here as he possibly could be. His mind was conjuring up horrible images, leaving him expecting the worst. Bonnie hurt. Bonnie _dead_. He burst from the treeline in a flurry of limbs and was halfway across the grass when he saw her. 

The front door looked like it was hanging wrong, like it had been ripped nearly off of its hinges when it was thrown open. Bonnie had made it a handful of steps onto the manicured grass - her feet were still bare, though she’d gotten changed out of his pyjamas at some point - and her eyes were wide with the same worry that Damon could feel in his bones.

Just the sight of her was enough to have Damon slumped over, hands on his knees.

Could vampires get winded? He felt fucking winded. Seeing Bonnie was alive and well replaced his feeling of terror with such intense relief that it was nearly strong enough to knock him right on his ass. Spots were dancing at the corners of his vision and Damon worried very briefly that _he_ was going to pass out. Damon spoke to the grass at his feet as he worked to catch his breath. “What the fuck happened?” 

At least he could hear her heartbeat again, the thundering of it getting closer as Bonnie half walked, half jogged across the grass to reach his side. Damon didn’t need to hear her thoughts to know that she was as unnerved as he was. One of Bonnie’s hands found his shoulder, nearer to cupping his neck than it wasn’t, and Damon swayed into the touch just slightly before he made himself stand up properly. Her hand didn’t fall away. 

Bonnie’s thoughts hadn’t come back into his head even with their closeness, so he ruled out distance being the issue. Damon’s own thoughts felt overly loud in his head without Bonnie's to cushion them and Damon looked at her face, saw the concern there.

“I don’t know… one second I could feel you and the next I couldn’t.” Damon didn’t feel as foolish for his worry; it was clear by the tremble in Bonnie’s voice that she was as panicked as he was.

It clicked for Damon, then. They’d fed on each other early that morning and there really wasn’t a strict science to the whole thing, but at a guess his blood had left Bonnie’s system at the same time that hers had left his. It was maybe a little faster than normal - it hadn’t quite been twelve hours, and sometimes it took an entire day - but they hadn’t really drunk that much. That wasn’t even taking into account whatever special circumstances this place would dream up for them.

Regardless, the result was obvious: their connection was broken. 

The knowledge left Damon feeling perversely bereft. What if Bonnie thought it was a good thing, once he’d explained it to her? Damon knew _he_ should think it was a good thing but he didn’t have the heart for it. Trust him to get used to the feeling of a witch poking around in his head enough to miss it as soon as it was gone. Bonnie was still looking at him, waiting for him to say something. 

“When we drank from each other-” Her hand flexed against his neck, a reflex, as her face colored just slightly. “- it wasn’t really that much, I guess. Must’ve worked its way out of our systems.” Bonnie’s eyes widened in understanding and she squeezed the side of his neck, deliberately this time, before she let go. Damon had to focus on not following her hand.

In place of saying something in response, Bonnie turned and walked back into the house. Damon stared after her, feeling like a ship drifting out at sea without an anchor. It was a thought that he immediately wanted to slap himself for. This wasn’t _normal_ and he cursed himself for wanting it back so badly. Bonnie was probably relieved to not have him hearing her thoughts anymore and Damon should feel the same. 

When Bonnie called his name Damon still trudged after her all the same, like he was helpless not to. He _felt_ helpless not to.

She was back in the kitchen, grimoire open in front of her. Damon chose not to comment on the newly broken chair that had been added to the stack in the corner, or the fresh feathers littered haphazardly across the floor; it seemed like he and Bonnie dealt with frustration in a very similar way. Damon might have to hide the good cushions from her. 

The candle that he’d somehow managed to light just by vaguely wanting to that morning was still on the kitchen table and Bonnie pointed at it, expectant. “Light that for me.” 

Doing magic still made him feel nauseous - it felt so wrong, foreign - but it also seemed too difficult to protest when the feeling of unease at not being able to hear Bonnie’s thoughts or heartbeat remained so close in his mind. Damon sighed and played along. “ _Incendia_.” 

The wick of the candle spluttered and Damon thought it might catch but it didn’t, a thin wisp of smoke rising into the air. If Damon having to say the full word hadn’t told them that whatever magic he _did_ have at the moment wasn’t strong enough, the lack of a flame certainly did. 

Bonnie nodded once to herself, decisive. Then she scrunched her face like she’d done the first time she had tried prompting her fangs to drop, poking at her gums with her tongue. Her fangs flashed down for a second before they were gone again. It was fascinating to watch: it was like her body wanted to be a vampire, but her inherent witchiness wouldn’t allow it. 

Damon wondered if she’d always been this way and it was only the act of drinking from each other that had brought it forward but that led to him wondering if he had always had witchy proclivities, which was too shudder-inducing a thought to entertain. He cleared his throat. “What now, Bon-Bon?”

Bonnie glanced at the grimoire, fingers running along a section of the writing on the page it was open to. Satisfied with whatever she’d read she moved closer to Damon, so that there was barely a foot separating them. 

When Bonnie lifted her wrist so that it was inches from Damon’s mouth he reached up instinctively to support her arm even as his eyebrows migrated up north, confusion flooding through him. He felt ridiculous clearing his throat a second time, but it was hard to speak suddenly. “Can I get a walk-through, here?” 

Bonnie sighed like he was being difficult. “I found a spell that should stop whoever we’re stuck in here with from getting back into the house. I don’t have my magic right now and it looks like yours is only worth anything when my blood is in your system.” When Damon didn’t respond, Bonnie tried to push her wrist closer to his mouth. “Damon, it makes sense. I was only going to feed you again, anyway.”

There was no denying that Bonnie had a point. As loathe as he was to admit he could even do magic, a spell like the one she was talking about would be invaluable while they figured out a way to put this hellhole in the rearview. Damon also knew that there was a part of him - and it wasn’t a small part - that was curious to see if drinking from Bonnie again would mean being able to hear her thoughts once more.

Bonnie had only mentioned the spell, though, not the potential side effects of Damon drinking her blood again. How could they know if their experience before had been a fluke? She could be inviting him right back into her head. It might be what Damon wanted - even if he had no idea _why_ \- but he wasn’t so much of an asshole that he wasn’t going to make sure she was okay with the possibility of it happening again, first.

Damon felt proud that his voice was mostly steady when he asked her, “Are you sure that you want to run the risk of having me in your head again?” 

If Bonnie said yes, the amount of people who would be willing to grant Damon the privilege of a front-row seat to their every thought could be counted on one hand. On two fingers, even: Bonnie, and maybe Elena. Damon frowned. Would he even _want_ to hear Elena’s thoughts, if she spent so much time justifying their relationship to herself? They’d been in a good place when the whole Other Side exploding thing had gone down, but would the doubts have started to creep back in for Elena the next time Damon did something awful in the name of love? 

Being able to hear those doubts broadcast into his head in stereo… Damon couldn’t stop himself physically flinching away from the thought.

Warm fingers at his wrist brought Damon back to himself. Bonnie’s face came into focus - how long had he been staring at the wall over her shoulder? - and the concern there was obvious even before her voice filtered through the ringing in his ears. “Where did you go, D?”

It was the first time that Bonnie had used his new nickname in serious context and Damon felt… he didn’t know. Seen, maybe. Cared for in a way that he hadn’t expected, especially coming from this source. He plastered on a smile that felt more like a grimace and squeezed her arm, still held suspended in front of his face. This place was so _weird_. “Nowhere I’m in a hurry to go back to.” 

Bonnie squeezed his wrist again. Then she did something that Damon should have probably expected: she lifted his arm, so that his wrist was in front of her face. They mirrored each other, now. “I said I trusted you, and I meant it.” Before Damon could ask if she really trusted him with _so much_ , Bonnie smirked. “I’m okay with having you in my head as long as you’re okay with having me in yours. Fair’s fair.” 

It wasn’t like Damon had forgotten that element, he just knew that he had the better end of the deal. 

While Bonnie could feel his emotions - his amusement at their banter, or his guilt remembering how awful he’d been in May of 1994 - she didn’t know the exact context of them. Damon would be able to hear Bonnie’s every thought if he tried to, and she was granting him permission. She was right that it was the least he could do. Damon nodded. “Alright, but wait your turn.”

Damon let his fangs drop and waited. He wasn’t sure _what_ exactly he was waiting for until Bonnie nudged her wrist right up against his mouth; he had her permission but Damon wanted to know that she really _wanted_ it. 

Biting down was easy - Damon had been a vampire for infinitely longer than he’d been human - but the taste of Bonnie’s blood as it hit his tongue was just as intoxicating as it had been the first time. Damon fought against the urge to close his eyes by looking into Bonnie’s instead and it was infinitely worse, especially when Bonnie’s thoughts started to enter his head as an indistinct trickle at first - _no pain, why?_ \- before they became a flood: _why does it feel so_ good? _I can feel how pleased you are. How calm this makes you._

Closing his eyes then was a defense mechanism. 

Immediately Bonnie’s thoughts weren’t so whole in his head; fragments of sentences instead of fully formed ones. He could only hope that his emotions weren’t so damning in her own head now that she couldn’t look into his eyes. 

Something about the way Bonnie squeezed his wrist made Damon reopen his eyes to look at her, immediately uncaring of the way he was opening himself up to a type of scrutiny that no one but Bonnie was allowed to impose upon him. Her fangs had dropped back down and she rested them against his skin, raising a solitary eyebrow at him. 

_Can I?_

The two innocuous words entering his head and just like that Damon’s skin felt too tight, his lungs too small. He could have nudged his wrist against her mouth like she had done to him but Damon wanted her to feel as unsettled as he did right then: instead he pulled back from drinking from her, aware that his fangs would be bloody. He had an inkling… and sure enough, it was impossible to miss the way that Bonnie’s pupils blew wider as her gaze darted down to his mouth. 

His voice felt damningly husky when he said, “do it.”

They were both walking on a high wire, unsure what would find them if they fell. Damon was finding that he didn’t really care as long as he wasn’t alone up there: he closed his eyes and sunk his fangs back into Bonnie’s wrist as she did the same on his own arm, her grip tightening as she began to drink from him. 

It was nothing like that morning because this time Bonnie didn’t freak out and break his sternum by shoving him away; they stood there, practically entwined with one another, drinking their fill as the minutes ticked by. How long could they really feed from each other? They were each giving and taking away from the other. Realistically, neither of them would ever become woozy from blood loss. 

By some unspoken agreement they both disengaged at the same time. Damon did what he always did with his repeat customers, licking across the wounds his fangs had made to encourage them to close. Then he had to stop himself from jumping like a startled cat when Bonnie did the same to him, her pink tongue dragging neatly across the holes she’d left behind. 

Now Damon’s skin felt tight for a different reason and Bonnie smirked at him because she was an _asshole_ and knew exactly what she was doing, or at least the effect that she was having. Damon bared his fangs at her and yanked his arm away as she laughed - no, as she _giggled_ at him. He should be annoyed but he wasn’t and that was almost more confusing. 

Moody, he pointed at the candle and smirked at Bonnie when the wick caught. No spells necessary! Take that! 

Bonnie bared her own fangs at him. “Very impressive.” 

Damon smirked wider. He thrived off of their banter and now he knew without a doubt that she did too; there was nothing about the path of her thoughts that suggested that she was even mildly annoyed with him. The more time they spent together, the more alike Damon was sure they were. 

Bonnie moved away to pick up the grimoire, bringing it back to where Damon was still standing. The unreality of their situation struck him again. Had they really just stood in the kitchen feeding from each other for something like five minutes? Damon didn’t want to look at a clock. 

At least he’d been wearing a shirt this time. Damon didn’t want to chance a look down to see if Bonnie had put on a bra while he was out, though.

The spell on the page that Bonnie was pointing at made Damon’s eyebrows rise in disbelief once more. If he was reading it right, it was the same spell that prevented vampires from entering property owned by the living. How was this going to help them, if their invader was a witch like Bonnie suspected? 

Like she had expected his confusion, Bonnie answered the question he hadn’t even given voice to yet. “No, look, you can adjust it: instead of stopping vampires from entering, you can stop witches from entering. I guess it was used to stop witches from rogue covens from encroaching on territory.” 

Bitchy witches… no surprises there. Still, Damon had to ask. “But won’t that affect us, too? Powers or not you’re still a witch, Bonnie. I’m not exactly in the mood to get yanked out of my own house, either.” 

Bonnie was nodding at him and Damon was inordinately pleased that she was acknowledging that he’d made a good point. When did impressing her become so important to him? “True, but there are exceptions to every rule. I’m realizing that a lot of spellwork just comes down to your intentions. If you want the spell to exclude us, it will.” 

Huh. Witches really didn’t advertise that, did they? But Damon knew that Bonnie had been surprised - shocked, really - when he’d stopped her bite mark from bleeding the first time he’d fed from her. Vampires had their secrets too. 

If Bonnie thought this spell would work, that it would keep them safe, Damon would do it. He threw his arms out wide, startling Bonnie. “Where do you want me?” 

She rolled her eyes at him but nudged him towards the table, putting the grimoire in front of him when he sat down on one of the few remaining chairs. The tome had the same musty, faintly magical smell that he’d noticed the first time he’d seen it in her bag and Damon grimaced. Any thought of discomfort disappeared when Bonnie leaned over his shoulder so that she could keep reading, her body a warm line along his back; that was a ‘no’ on the bra front. Before he even realized what was happening Damon felt settled again. Calm. Was she doing that on purpose?

Did that mean Damon should like it less?

Bonnie’s voice was a pleasant vibration against his back until he actually registered what she was saying. “You’re a pretty strong witch -” 

“ _Gross,_ Bonnie!” 

“- so I don’t think you’ll even need to say the spell out loud, you big baby. Just… I don’t know, mouth the words or whatever. Make sure you remember to exclude us and it should work.” 

Damon rolled his shoulders and Bonnie moved back an inch, making a ripple of disappointment pass through Damon. He blushed like a schoolgirl - please god don’t let Bonnie notice any of that - and focused on the page in front of him, eyes darting across the words as he read the spell. As far as he could tell Bonnie was right in saying that it really did come down to intention. On a hunch Damon ignored the actual words of the spell entirely, mouthing something of his own instead:

 _Keep_ them _out, protect me and Bonnie, keep_ them _out, protect me and Bonnie._

Nothing happened, though Damon wasn’t sure exactly what he’d expected. Fireworks? Doors slamming all over the house? Bonnie leant over his shoulder again and he turned to look at her, their faces almost brushing. She was frowning. 

Damon frowned along with her. Magic was so temperamental and annoying. “How are we supposed to know if it worked?” Like his question had prompted the magic to get moving, Damon’s ears popped painfully like he was at the top of a mountain. He winced and saw Bonnie do the same, one of her hands coming up to rub at her ear. Damon laughed. “Seriously? _That’s_ how we know?”

She stood up straight and moved towards the cupboards, appearing to open and close them at random. Damon heard her stomach growl. How was she hungry? Actually, it made sense. Feeding from him wouldn’t be enough to sustain her if she wasn’t technically a vampire. The girl still had to eat. 

“Don’t mock the magic, Damon, or I won’t make you dinner.” 

There was that strange pleased feeling again. Damon kept his mouth closed and watched her move around the kitchen, finding a jar of olives and chopped tomatoes from somewhere. Pasta went into a pot to cook and Damon found himself smiling, feeling content just to watch her move around the space so comfortably. Of course, that only lasted as long as it took her to snap her fingers at him to break him out of his trance.

“Can you get some bowls out, please?”

Damon unfolded himself from the table and moved into her space. “Only because you asked so nicely.” 

She swatted at him with a dish towel and Damon laughed, reaching over her head to get the bowls out of the cupboard. Damon noticed in a vague sort of way that he and Bonnie moved around each other easily, not bumping into each other even as they moved without looking to get this or that. Was it because of their blood-sharing connection, or was it just… them? Damon was beginning to think it was the latter.

They sat down to eat and Damon’s legs widened of their own volition, Bonnie’s own legs moving between them as she settled across from him. And Damon _knew_ that Bonnie hadn’t thought about the action before she’d done it because all she was thinking about was the saltiness of the pasta and whether she’d put too many olives in. 

Touching her was only becoming more comfortable as time wore on and Damon had no idea what to do or say about it so he took the cowards route and said nothing, matching Bonnie’s silence as they ate.

It wasn’t long before she was slumping over her bowl, fork half forgotten halfway to her mouth. Her silence suddenly made more sense. They’d had another big day of surprise fangs and magic, not to mention the intruder in the house. Damon felt weary himself but he had no intentions of closing his eyes only to see Elena’s misery in technicolor; he’d grab a book from the library and spend the night reading again before he let himself sleep..

A soft squeeze of his knees around Bonnie’s legs made her look up at him sleepily, her eyes taking a second to focus on his face. “I think it might be bedtime, Bon-Bon.” She nodded and Damon stood to clear their plates, Bonnie pushing back from the table and walking out of the room. Damon heard her making her way up the stairs shortly after, her steps deliberate like she didn’t want to lose her footing on them again.

Which room would she choose? 

Damon shook his head and forced himself to stop listening to her progress through the house, getting the pasta sauce off of the bowls so he wouldn’t have to soak them in the morning. The sun was most of the way to having set, bathing the kitchen in late afternoon sunshine. At least Bonnie had managed to stay awake longer today.

Once he’d cleaned the bowls and the pots Bonnie had used, Damon decided to stall a bit longer by collecting the feathers strewn across the floor, dumping them in the trash. The pile of chairs in the corner of the room were getting unwieldy too so he tossed them out the back door to deal with them tomorrow. He didn’t try fooling himself into thinking he wasn’t steeling himself to go upstairs because he definitely was.

If he lingered any longer Bonnie would start to wonder what his problem was, if she hadn’t already. _Fuck_. At least she couldn’t hear his thoughts. Damon made one last stop at the library to grab a different book - _Emma,_ because he had depths, okay - before he took the stairs up to the second floor. 

He hated himself for feeling so anxious. It shouldn’t matter if Bonnie was sleeping in the other room! Why should the thought make him feel so wrongfooted? He’d still be able to hear her heartbeat; she’d still be close by. 

Not close enough to touch, though. 

The annoying thing was, Damon could have put himself out of his misery a good ten minutes ago if he’d stopped being a morose dick and just let himself listen to her heartbeat like he so desperately wanted to. With how his little experiment had gone, Damon had no doubt that he’d be able to pinpoint Bonnie’s exact location without any effort as long as he had her heartbeat to guide him. 

It would have felt like cheating, though. 

The decision was made for him when he came to the open doorway of the room adjacent to his. He turned his head and looked into the room before he’d even thought to do so and saw exactly what he, for some godforsaken reason, wanted to: the room was empty, which could only mean that Bonnie was in his room.

Damon took the handful of steps necessary to confirm that, eyes landing on where Bonnie was already cocooned in the sheets. Her breaths were even and slow - still a little too spaced out to be human, to be normal - and Damon’s heart clenched. She was already asleep, and on his side of the bed no less. It looked like she’d stolen his pillow too, and the bag she’d brought with her was stashed next to his dresser.

“What are you staring at?”

Damon couldn’t contain his full-body flinch, nor could he contain his enthusiastic shout of “Jesus!”

Bonnie snorted and snuggled deeper into her sheet prison without even opening her eyes, where she’d apparently been awake the whole time. Damon tried to pretend that he wasn’t breathing heavily while clutching his book to his chest like some sort of Victorian maiden. “I thought you were asleep!” He walked further into the room, closing the door behind himself. _Emma_ got slapped down on the opposite nightstand to the one he usually used, because Bonnie was a bed thief. 

“I was, but I could feel you watching me.”

Damon laughed. “You make it sound so creepy.” Maybe it _was_ a little creepy, but he’d been as relieved as he had been surprised to see Bonnie snuggled up in his bed again. Hopefully Bonnie wasn’t so awake that she could feel his damning emotions being projected into her head. 

Instead of letting himself worry about that for too long, Damon turned and stripped out of his shirt and jeans and grabbed the pyjama pants he’d worn the night before. Bonnie’s eyes were warm on his back the entire time. He felt a little lightheaded and didn’t want to think about why.

“Can you hear what I’m thinking?” 

It would have taken a stronger man than Damon not to jump on the opportunity to draw Bonnie’s attention anywhere that _wasn’t_ his tumultuous feelings. He spun around and struck a ridiculous pose with his stomach tensed so his abs stood out in stark relief, arms flexing above his head. “Is it ‘god Damon, you’re such a stud, Elena is so lucky that she gets to jump your bones’?”

Bonnie laughed and Damon quietly celebrated his victory by ruffling his hair and looking at her coquettishly, really hamming it up. Making Bonnie laugh was almost as fun as impressing her. 

“No, you idiot,” her heart thumped strangely and suddenly the joke didn’t feel so funny anymore. Was that a _lie_? “Can you _actually_ hear what I’m thinking right now?” 

Oh, they were being serious? Damon wasn’t dressed for serious. He walked around his bed and got in on the wrong side, conceding that Bonnie could keep his side for now. Then he focused on the part of his mind that was usually occupied by Bonnie’s thoughts… only to find fuzzy silence and indistinct shapes. How had he not noticed before? Being so consumed by his own strange thoughts regarding the little witch must have blinded him to whatever it was she was doing. 

Damon shook his head. “It’s like you’re behind a wall or something. How did you do that?” 

Seemingly satisfied, Bonnie closed her eyes and wriggled around until she’d reached some level of comfort that was only apparent to her. “Magic is just intention, right? So if I don’t want you to hear my thoughts, you can’t.” 

That was good to know. Could he pull off the same thing and stop her from being able to feel every traitorous emotion that he felt? Damon smiled faintly, rueful. Something told him that it wouldn’t make a difference: Bonnie and her knack for knowing what he was thinking or feeling even before their connection had formed meant that she would probably catch him out every single time. There was no point. 

Questioning the _why_ of Bonnie hiding her thoughts from him felt far too dangerous even if his feelings were a little hurt, and Damon really was a coward. The options were either Bonnie didn’t trust him with such a private part of her despite what she’d said earlier or… Damon didn’t know. The single out-of-place thump of Bonnie’s heart when he’d suggested that she was jealous of Elena was still making his head spin. 

Damon went to grab _Emma_ off of the nightstand before he remembered that he hadn’t finished _Call of the Wild_ the night before and he stifled a groan. He was comfortable, pillows at his back and Bonnie at his side, and he didn’t want to get up to get it off of the opposite nightstand. Why was life so hard? He’d read the book enough times that it probably shouldn’t matter but - Bonnie reached out of her sheet cocoon and grabbed _Call of the Wild_ off of the opposite nightstand and dropped it on his lap. 

Damon didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or scream to have her prove him right so soon. She really could read him like the book she’d just handed him.

“Thanks.”

_You’re welcome._

Damon looked down at Bonnie, half asleep again already. In no time at all her breaths were deep and even like they had been when Damon had first walked into the room and Damon cracked open his book, ready to spend the night letting the words pass over him until they could do it all again tomorrow. He could probably last another day or two without keeling over from lack of sleep but he could feel the first vestiges of tiredness already.

Bonnie might trust Damon enough to sleep beside him, but could he trust _her_ enough to do the same? Or himself enough not to hurt her if a nightmare woke him in the middle of the night, confused and disoriented and missing Elena like the air in his lungs? And that wasn’t even taking into consideration that Damon was used to sleeping spooned up against someone. What if he cuddle-molested Bonnie while they were just trying to get a break from the madness of this place? That would hardly be fair.

_Stop thinking so loud._

Damon jumped in place. Bonnie’s breathing had barely changed between her being asleep and waking up again; he really needed to pay more attention instead of getting lost in his own circular patterns of thinking. That way lay madness. 

It was hard to return his attention to the words on the page in front of him but Damon made himself do it, and hours passed like that: Damon reading - he finished _Call of the Wild_ and started _Emma_ immediately after - and Bonnie sleeping soundly beside him, gradually squirming across the expanse of the bed to rest again his thigh like a heat-seeking missile. 

As the room slowly lightened around them, Damon was finding it harder and harder to deny that Bonnie’s mere presence was enough to make him smile; that he felt something for her, even if he couldn’t put a name to it yet.


	8. & be kept.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The image of miles of smooth skin and soft curves felt laser-printed onto his eyelids even though he’d barely looked at Bonnie for longer than a second; Damon couldn’t have stopped himself from imagining his hands on her if he tried."
> 
> Damon and Bonnie are walking on a high wire. Which of them will fall first?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (part 2 of the chapter I split in half)

**damon -**

The next day started much the same as the one that came before it: Bonnie stretched hugely as she woke up and Damon watched on bemusedly, though he didn’t have to stop her from breaking a hand on the headboard this time. She’d moved closer to Damon as she’d slept again and had been keeping his left leg warm for the better part of an hour. Damon felt unbearably fond and hated that Bonnie probably knew. Or maybe she didn’t, if Damon didn’t want her to know? 

Magic was unreliable and Damon didn’t want to assume that it was ever going to be on his side.

Considering he hadn’t showered yesterday Damon got up and headed towards the bathroom to get the water running, laughing quietly to himself when Bonnie immediately made herself scarce by literally whooshing out of the room, a Vampire Perk she obviously enjoyed. They’d been toeing some sort of line this last day or so and Damon had finally found it. 

It made him think of the games he’d play with Elena while she was still with Stefan, like appearing in front of her naked and dripping from a bath. Then Damon wanted to brain himself on the shower tile for even having the same thought in the context of Bonnie. Line or no line, this place was really doing funny things to his brain. 

He spent too long in the shower after that blasting himself in the face with water just this side of scorching, so he shouldn’t have been surprised when he made his way downstairs after getting dressed to find Bonnie at the stove, something sizzling away in the pan in front of her. It was clear that the Pancakes Forever Until We Die trend had been thoroughly vetoed and Damon didn’t know how to feel about it. 

It didn’t matter that he’d been making the pancakes to punish himself when being denied the opportunity felt like it hurt just as much. Damon was used to being allowed - encouraged, even! - to wallow.

The only consolation prize to be found in the whole thing was that Bonnie was still wearing his pyjama shirt, though she’d traded in the matching sleep shorts for ones she must have brought with her that were much… tinier. If it weren’t for the shirt being tucked into the shorts it would have looked like she was wearing a dress and Damon felt a little light-headed, suddenly, and more than aware that he was staring. 

Bonnie must have been able to feel his rioting emotions - or his eyes on her legs - from the doorway because she looked over at him, flipping what Damon could now see looked like French toast in the pan. It smelled delicious, probably just to spite him. No room for argument in her tone, Bonnie told him, “until you tell me why force feeding me pancakes makes you look like someone’s just kicked your puppy, I’m making breakfast from now on.” 

Well, he should have expected that Bonnie wasn’t going to let him get away with that forever. Damon knew he had to tell her; before Bonnie decided that Damon was someone worth being friends with, worth caring about, she needed to see the true ugliness of him. Trying to hide that same ugliness from Elena was why they kept having problems. 

Sometimes, in his darkest moments, Damon thought that the version of himself that Elena loved didn’t even exist.

Instead of dwelling on that, Damon nodded. “That’s fair.” Bonnie had already gone back to the French toast, sprinkling cinnamon that she’d found somewhere over the top. A punnet of strawberries was open at her elbow and Damon was actually looking forward to breakfast, now. “And I will tell you, eventually.”

“I know you will.” It was as much of an affirmation as it was a vague - and kindly meant, he was sure - threat. He’d be surer if Bonnie wasn’t still hiding her thoughts from him, but Damon figured that she was allowed. Damon made it two steps towards the safety of the table before Bonnie pointed the spatula accusingly at him. “Hey! Plates, please.”

It felt like they were playing house. 

Damon sighed theatrically and walked to the counter, reaching around Bonnie for access to the cutlery drawer. Bonnie chose that same moment to move and Damon reached a hand out to stop her, fingers somehow finding a sliver of warm skin where the pyjama shirt she had stolen wasn’t tucked into her shorts properly. Damon squeezed the side of her waist before he let go. “Careful, Bon-Bon.”

They both stood frozen for one second, two, before the world righted itself and Bonnie flipped the toast a final time, Damon getting out the plates and maple syrup and taking them to the table. Touching Bonnie was becoming more than instinct now and Damon didn’t know how to make himself stop, especially if she wasn’t going to ask him to. 

He was touching her with the same familiarity and intimacy that he’d touch Elena and if Bonnie hadn’t realized as much already she was going to sooner rather than later. Damon had to wonder if, when the other shoe finally dropped, Bonnie would admonish him and tell him to stop.

That time might come but it wasn’t going to come today, because they settled into their usual positions at the table with Bonnie’s legs held between Damon’s own. Damon barely stifled an indecent noise at the first mouthful of perfectly cooked French toast, aware of Bonnie’s eyes on him as she waited for his reaction. “Okay, yes, you can make breakfast as often as you like.”

Bonnie smiled and dug into her own food and for a brief flash her thoughts were almost loud enough for Damon to decipher, like Bonnie had lost her grip on them, before they went back behind the wall she had erected in her mind. It was hard not to feel disappointed but Damon didn’t interrupt the silence, content to eat in peace. He couldn’t ask her to divulge anything if he wasn’t willing to tell her everything either.

Breakfast passed in silence and so did washing up, though this time Damon managed to stop himself from touching Bonnie inappropriately. He lingered afterwards, not sure what Bonnie wanted to do; Bonnie herself didn't seem certain, eyes flicking between the grimoire open on the counter and the doorway. Eventually she sighed and Damon could tell that she was frustrated and upset even without being able to hear her thoughts.

“I’m gonna keep trying to get my powers to come back, maybe look into this Ascendants stuff a bit more. If whoever broke in thought it was worth paying attention to… who knows?”

“Yeah, okay.” He should leave it there, but something made him ask. “Do you want me to stay?”

Bonnie seemed to actually consider that for a moment, head tilting this way and that before she finally grimaced. “No, it’s… no.” She gestured to the table and the spots where at least three dining chairs should have been. “It’s frustrating and I can get a bit…” 

Damon grinned at her. “Homicidally violent?”

She snorted out a laugh. “That. It’s not pretty, and I’d hate to accidentally stake you.”

It was obvious that she was being sarcastic - the sardonic grin on her face said as much - but Damon placed his hand over his heart and swooned dramatically all the same. “Bonnie Bennett, if you keep talking like that a vampire is going to get ideas!” 

And so Damon got shoved out of the kitchen for the second time in as many days.

At least they’d both fed properly last night; Damon was hoping that Bonnie would have a bit more Superpowered Juice to work with when trying to get her magic to cooperate. It was almost impossible for him to imagine being cut off from something that was so integral to who he was as a person. Damon knew that he’d go half out of his mind if he was suddenly stripped of his vampire abilities; he might have wanted to be human once upon a time, but not anymore. This was who he was for better or for worse.

Instead of going straight for the bourbon like he wanted to he whooshed up to his room and grabbed his book before making his way back downstairs. After hearing Bonnie’s heartbeat and thoughts drop out yesterday, Damon wasn’t feeling too eager to be far away from her.

Once he got settled on one of the couches in the living room it was easy to get lost in the words that were so familiar to him, the faint sounds of Bonnie moving around the kitchen and her voice rising as she swore profusely when things didn’t go her way keeping him company as the light shifted about the room. 

It was strange not to feel bored but all Damon felt was content, which was strange in and of itself.

They’d spent the last few years in such a constant state of life-threatening danger that this sort of in-between time felt almost holy. Sure, Damon wanted to get back to the life he loved - the _girl_ he loved - so much that it felt like his bones ached with it, but they were relatively safe here. The random intruder who knew Damon was a vampire notwithstanding, of course. 

That reminded Damon. He focused all of his energy on the walls of the house and he and Bonnie within them; he even closed his eyes, because Bonnie wasn’t watching to judge him. Damon let his mouth move with the words: 

_Keep_ them _out, protect me and Bonnie, keep_ them _out, protect me and Bonnie._

It took a moment like it had last night but Damon eventually felt his ears pop at the same time as he heard Bonnie’s startled exhalation of air when hers must have done the same. Before she could ask him what the hell he was doing Damon turned his head towards the kitchen and shouted, “Just stopping us from being murdered in the night, don’t mind me!”

Bonnie laughed and Damon grinned to himself, going back to his book. His eyes were starting to feel dry and sore and no amount of blinking was making them feel any better. The book wasn’t going to hold his attention for much longer.

Vampires would tell you until the cows came home that they didn’t need to sleep - mostly because it made them seem dark and mysterious - but it wasn’t technically true. Like with most things that humans needed to survive, vampires could get by for longer without doing it, but if Damon didn’t nap or sleep soon he was probably going to start seeing multiples of Bonnie. As entertaining as that might be it was only really fun in theory; one Bonnie was already more than Damon felt equipped to handle.

Thoughts of Elena’s wretched face as she sobbed over his hopefully-not-permanent death was enough to jolt Damon into wakefulness once more and he managed to keep reading for another hour or two, turning to flick on a lamp when the dimming light started to make his eyes hurt even worse. Funny how running low on sleep could make Damon’s body start acting its age.

With how easily she was taking to her vampire abilities Damon really shouldn’t have jumped at Bonnie appearing in front of him but he couldn’t help it; Bonnie really _was_ good at it, more silent on her feet than any vampire Damon had ever met. He really might have to invest in a bell.

Bonnie’s hair was a fuzzy halo around her head which occupied Damon’s attention for about as long as it took him to notice that he was eye level with the tiny shorts he couldn’t help noticing earlier. Damon forced himself to move his eyes up to her face without making it look like he was checking her out, which he was only sort of doing, because he wouldn’t put it past Bonnie to snap his neck about it. Thankfully she didn’t look annoyed when their eyes met and she said, apropos of nothing, “I’m hungry.” 

Bonnie’s stomach rumbled in support and Damon sighed, not really feeling put out about it. It was only fair that he made dinner if she was going to be serving up gourmet breakfasts like the toast of that morning. Damon heaved himself up and Bonnie smiled because she knew that she had him. “Okay, but you’re not allowed to complain if I make pasta again.”

It wasn’t that Damon didn’t know how to cook anything else but he knew that they had the ingredients for a simple pasta sauce in the cupboards already. If this fucked up place kept insisting on not replenishing the food they used each godforsaken morning, they were going to have to go to a grocery store and stock up in the next few days. Would the stuff that Damon had in his basket still be there, strewn across the floor? That would be embarrassing.

Damon cooked and Bonnie set the table, the both of them moving around each other like they had been doing it their whole lives instead of like, two and a half days. It felt almost as eerie as it did comforting; this was the sort of closeness, the sort of _intimacy_ , that people usually had to work at. Had it been this way with Elena? Damon couldn’t remember.

It made Damon feel so out of sorts that he was weighing the pros and cons of deliberately bumping into Bonnie just to resettle their equilibrium when she beat him to it, turning too fast and catching herself with a small hand on his hip. Their chests were almost touching. The warmth of her palm bled through his shirt and Damon stood frozen for the seconds it took Bonnie to move past him and towards the table. 

Damon wished he could hear her thoughts, just so he could know if touching him made Bonnie feel anything. Touching Bonnie made Damon feel a little like he’d swallowed a firework, or maybe like he’d been struck by lightning. Considering asking her would make him look insane, probably, Damon just carried on making their dinner and tried to ignore the phantom feeling of her hand on him.

Eating with their legs intertwined beneath the table was apparently the norm now, because that’s how they ate their dinner. Bonnie’s first mouthful of pasta - basic, not Damon’s best work, but still good - garnered him a happy noise and a little dance in her seat and Damon grinned as he struggled not to let his chest visibly puff with pride. They ate mostly in silence but it was the nice kind, borne from already knowing how the other person had spent their day.

Once they had finished their food Bonnie nudged her knees against the inside of Damon’s and he snapped out of his reverie to look at her with an eyebrow raised, but she was already pushing back and away from the table before he managed to say anything.

Bonnie made it halfway to the doorway - he still needed to fix the door jamb, it was practically hanging off - and paused to look over her shoulder at him. “Can you do the dishes? I’m gonna go shower.” 

Before he could reply she whooshed upstairs and Damon had to bite his tongue against what he wanted to yell, which was _mind if I join?_ It would have been his default response if it was Elena saying it, if he didn’t just barge in halfway through without asking. 

Damon busied himself with cleaning up the dishes - not at all because Bonnie had told him to - and steadfastly _not_ thinking about the naked witch in his bathroom. Because she was in his bathroom; the thunk of the old pipes didn’t lie. 

Finding Bonnie attractive wasn’t new - he had _eyes,_ and Bonnie had that same fiery intensity that drew him first to Katherine and then Elena - but it was a different thing entirely to be here alone with her, touching all the time, sharing a bed even if he hadn’t actually gotten under the sheets. 

Some wires must be getting seriously crossed in his brain, though Damon knew without a doubt that he loved Elena enough not to make a pass at her best friend, even if they might be trapped here forever. Damon was a lot of things, but he was loyal. He knew that Bonnie was too. Jeremy stepping out on her with his dead ex must have been a real blow but she’d still stayed with him; if Elena did that to Damon, he didn’t know if he’d be able to forgive her.

Damon felt close to Bonnie; closer than he’d felt to a person for a while. Closer than he’d felt to Elena, these last few weeks. It was a terrifying thought but Damon let himself acknowledge that he was having it. Trying to deny it was happening at all would only blow up in his face somewhere down the line, past experience told him that much.

It might have been easier to deal with it all - wanting to touch Bonnie all the time, the need to be close to her - if Damon knew what Bonnie thought or felt about it. But Damon was back to flying completely blind now that she’d blocked him from her thoughts. No matter how much he poked and prodded at the indistinct shape of them in his head, he couldn’t figure out how she was feeling about their connection or anything that came with it.

The shower finally clattered to a stop but Damon, for some reason, didn’t feel up to facing Bonnie just yet. They were spending the majority of their days together or at least around each other; spending half an hour apart was probably a good thing. 

Damon checked that all of the windows and doors on the ground floor were locked, repeating the same mantra from before under his breath until his ears had popped so many times that they ached vaguely with it.

Eventually Damon ran out of entry points to inspect and a glance at one of the clocks told him it had been at least ten minutes since the water had shut off. Bonnie’s heartbeat was loud in his ears but he couldn’t tell exactly where she was in his room - she was probably in bed already, hogging his side - so he whooshed upstairs, only to slap a hand over his eyes immediately. Okay, _almost_ immediately.

That was way more of Bonnie than he had expected to see with so little warning.

The image of miles of smooth skin and soft curves felt laser-printed onto his eyelids even though he’d barely looked at Bonnie for longer than a second; Damon couldn’t have stopped himself from imagining his hands on her if he tried. A sharp spike of lust rolled through him and Damon could have strangled himself. Bonnie would be able to _feel it_.

“Jesus, Damon!” There was no opportunity to dodge whatever small projectile Bonnie threw at him from the bathroom - it felt like a bar of soap, or maybe a hand grenade - and Damon swore, hopping around the room with his hand still firmly held over his eyes. She’d hit him in the fucking _knee_. 

“I’m sorry!” Bonnie let out an impressive combination of a groan and a yell from within the relative safety of the bathroom; it echoed. “Why are you - I thought you were dressed!”

“You couldn’t have knocked?” Bonnie didn’t really sound annoyed, more exasperated than anything, which was too confusing for Damon to fathom when all that he could see in his mind’s eye was her naked body. Jesus Christ. 

Damon waved his free hand through the air, indignant even though he didn’t think Bonnie could see him. “You could have used a different bathroom, Bonnie!”

Bonnie was silent for long enough that Damon peeked between his fingers. It looked like the coast was clear and Damon let himself mourn that for a moment, but hopefully not long enough that Bonnie would notice and throw something else painful at him. His knee was still throbbing. 

Something told him that if neither of them moved they’d be in a standoff all night so he picked her towel up off of the floor and threw it blindly into the bathroom. “Get decent, will you?”

Then he jumped onto the bed - on his side too, take that Bonnie! - and covered his face with a pillow, to remove the temptation to look but also so he could smother himself. 

There was the soft sound of fabric against skin before he heard Bonnie walk out of the bathroom and the sound of drawers opening and closing followed moments later. The urge to peek was almost overwhelming and Damon pressed the pillow tighter against his face; breathing was overrated. He couldn’t help himself when Bonnie snorted out a laugh though, shifting the pillow to the side to see that she was finally wearing clothes - his shirt again, and a new pair of equally evil tiny shorts - and grinning at him like the cat who’d caught the canary. 

“Now who’s the prude?”

Damon threw the pillow at her. “Oh, I’m sorry, was I supposed to ogle you? Why didn’t you say!” 

He felt too warm; his skin was starting to feel like it was in a permanent state of being two sizes too small the more time he spent with Bonnie. That feeling didn’t go away when Bonnie laughed at him and got into the bed, beginning her usual routine of burying herself in sheets. Damon watched her. Couldn’t take his eyes off of her, really. She _smelled like him_. 

It looked like Bonnie wasn’t mad considering she was already halfway to being asleep, which Damon was willing to run with as long as she would let him. They had bigger things to worry about, anyway. Bonnie still hadn’t had any luck with getting her magic back and Damon _did_ have a life and a girlfriend that he wanted to get back to sometime in the near future. 

The need to sleep was really starting to dig its claws into Damon but he was determined - somewhat stupidly, at this point - not to give in. Even getting into pyjamas felt too risky right now so he stayed fully dressed; being uncomfortable would hopefully keep him awake.

Maybe he’d even help Bonnie out with the magic stuff tomorrow, to try and speed things along a little. Damon suppressed a shiver. The thought of doing magic more elaborate than protecting the house made him feel sick. But if it meant getting back to Elena sooner, he would do it.

Tomorrow, Damon would get them out of this place.

\--

‘Tomorrow’ didn’t exactly go to plan.

Damon had tried reading to keep himself awake as Bonnie slept peacefully beside him but it wouldn’t hold his concentration for longer than five minutes. A handful of times Damon had found himself staring at the wall, eyes unfocused, brain running in a million directions that his sleep-deprived mind couldn’t follow. Sometime around the hour three mark Damon had gotten out of bed and whooshed from the room, determined to stay awake even if it meant he had to spend the entire night walking around the house.

Bonnie had found him sitting at the kitchen table come morning. 

Damon couldn’t help but notice that she was awake earlier than usual, like she had noticed that he wasn’t beside her and had come looking. He had expected her to ask him what the fuck exactly was going on but she’d just shaken her head at him and started getting breakfast ready. Apparently there were just enough eggs for omelets.

Damon had to concentrate on not stabbing himself in the face with his fork and ignoring Bonnie’s increasingly concerned looks at the same time, which was almost more than he was able to handle at once. He just barely managed it and he leapt on the opportunity to get up and move, plucking Bonnie’s plate out of her grip as soon as she was done eating. Doing the dishes would wake him up.

A quick glance at Bonnie told Damon that she was watching him bemusedly. “What? I live to serve.”

That got him a snort of a laugh, which Damon had expected. If he could just fool Bonnie for the day, he… didn’t really know what he’d do. He couldn’t avoid sleeping forever no matter how much he might like to. It should help to know that there was no guarantee he’d even have a nightmare about Elena again but the possibility was enough to put him off.

“Would more blood help?”

Damon looked over his shoulder at Bonnie and tried not to drop the pan he was scrubbing at; his hands weren’t really following orders from his brain too well. Why was Bonnie asking that? Their connection was still going strong. Damon had just assumed that they wouldn’t feed from each other again until it ran out. “What?”

Bonnie whooshed over to stand beside him, one hip against the counter. “Would more blood help to wake you up?” 

Ah. Trust Bonnie to find the root of the problem without any help from Damon whatsoever. Not for the first time Damon found himself wishing she was just a little less astute. He grinned sheepishly, caught. “Yeah, maybe.”

Instead of offering him her wrist like Damon expected her to, Bonnie picked up a mug that Damon had been about to clean and bit into her own wrist with fangs he hadn’t even noticed dropping, letting the blood fall to mix with the dregs of leftover coffee. Damon felt his own fangs drop as he tried to quell his disappointment. Was he only allowed to drink directly from her when he actually needed to? Her blood would taste just as good from a mug but it wasn’t the same.

Damon took the mug from her when she offered it to him regardless, knocking the whole thing back while he watched Bonnie’s pink tongue close the little wounds she’d left in her skin. There was that skin-tightening feeling again. Bonnie went back to sit at the table, engrossed in the grimoire like nothing was out of the ordinary. Damon guessed that there wasn’t, really.

It took a minute or two for the effects of Bonnie’s blood to start to work their magic - ha! - on him, but Damon gradually started to feel more awake. He finished the rest of the dishes and whooshed over to sit across from Bonnie again, trapping her legs between his as she looked up at him. 

“Thanks for that,” _you’re welcome_ drifted into his head and Damon smiled, annoyingly happy for Bonnie to direct any of her thoughts his way. “What if I help with the spells today?” 

That got Bonnie’s attention, her head jerking up so she could stare incredulously at him. That was fair; just asking had made Damon feel a little faint all over again. But until she found a way to get her magic back, he was all they had in terms of someone who was able to test spells.

“Are you sure? I thought magic was gross.” Bonnie’s skepticism was clear and Damon couldn’t blame her because he’d certainly made his feelings clear.

Damon reached out and took the grimoire out of her slack grip - quietly surprised even now that touching the book didn’t burn him - and spun it around so he could read. Bonnie was still on the _Ascendants_ page and Damon started flipping the pages at random. “Oh, magic is gross as hell and I hate it. But…”

Bonnie pushed out against his legs with her knees and Damon tightened his hold on her instinctually. The warmth of her bare skin was bleeding through the fabric of his jeans. “But?”

“But, until you get your juice back, I’m our best bet at finding a way home.”

Bonnie nodded. Then Damon’s lessons started. They weren’t exactly the ‘get us home quick’ type, though. 

Bonnie made him light and extinguish the one candle so many times that Damon threatened to throw it out the window. Then came the lessons on making feathers float; Damon had to sacrifice another expensive throw pillow to that one. Both spells came naturally to Damon. He barely had to think about it before the wick was catching or the feathers were drifting through the air. Bonnie smiled proudly at him like he was doing something impressive anyway. 

It was impossible to test his ability to successfully do a locator spell when he could have found Bonnie if she was a solitary needle in a fucking huge haystack. Telling her as much had made Bonnie go quiet and contemplative and Damon couldn’t blame her. It was weird, that he could hear her heartbeat no matter where she was in the house. Damon didn’t want to tell her that he’d been able to do it even before their connection had manifested.

Damon refused to try any of the spells meant to hurt or maim, considering that he only had Bonnie to practice on. He hadn’t expected Bonnie to complain when he said as much, though.

“What do you mean, no? I’ve given you dozens of aneurysms! Fair is fair, Damon!” Bonnie was serving up her trademark Disappointed Hands on the Hips pose but Damon refused to budge. “What if you need magic to hurt whoever we’re trapped in this place with?” 

Why was he finding it so hard to tell the girl you once tried to kill that the thought of hurting her now, however temporary, was something you couldn’t stomach? Just because she had some vampire abilities didn’t mean that Damon wouldn’t accidentally kill her and he wasn’t willing to risk it, not even a little. “Then I’ll just snap their neck, or rip their heart out! I don’t need magic to kill someone, Bonnie.”

They stared at each for a tense moment before Bonnie sighed, flicking through the grimoire to find something else for him to work on. Damon tried not to visibly slump with relief. Bonnie would be able to feel it regardless of his willingness to show it. She didn’t comment on it though, instead laughing sudden and bright before she showed him the page she had opened to. 

Damon read the title and tried not to choke on air. “Teleportation? Really, Bonnie?”

“What? You never know when that will come in handy!”

Damon had to admit that he was curious to see if he could pull it off. He wasn’t so stupid that he wanted to immediately try it on _himself_ though. Damon looked around the room until he found something that couldn’t injure anyone if it went flying through the air. He pointed at a loaf of bread. Damon hadn’t had to actually speak any of the spells out loud so far; whatever magic he had knew what he wanted when he wanted it. 

Still, just for fun: “Bread!” 

The bread vibrated slightly before it shot into the air and flew across the room to land in his outstretched hands. Damon stared at it, disbelieving, as Bonnie cackled beside him. Okay, so that was technically telekinesis, not teleportation. Damon felt slightly braver anyway. 

He put the bread down on the table and closed his eyes, imaging himself standing in the hallway instead of the kitchen. He pictured every detail he could - the front door in front of him, the rug beneath his feet, the walls around him - and asked his magic to put him there. Seconds went by and nothing happened. Just as Damon was about to open his eyes and call it a bust his stomach swooped like he was at the top of a roller coaster that was about to plummet back down to earth and his ears popped so painfully that he cried out with it, clutching at his head. 

“Damon!”

The panic in Bonnie’s voice made Damon force his eyes open to find himself exactly where he’d wanted to be, in the middle of the hallway. There was no time to be impressed with himself because he started heaving immediately, bending double. Bonnie appeared in front of him with a bucket just in time to catch the worst of it, a grimace plain on her face. 

“Okay, so that’s a hard ‘no’ on teleporting, then.”

Damon heaved again and gave her a weak thumbs down, feeling miserable. Bonnie’s free hand started to gently card through his hair. Thankfully the nausea started to go away and Damon made himself stand up straight, Bonnie’s hand falling from his hair with the motion. There was no judgement on her face, only sympathy. 

“Do you wanna go lie down?” Damon nodded and Bonnie mirrored him. “I think that’s enough magic for today.”

There was still a chance that being horizontal for longer than five minutes would mean Damon would fall asleep but the rolling nausea he could still feel was enough to have him following Bonnie into the living room. She sat him down on the couch and then whooshed herself away, presumably to get rid of the puke. Damon tipped his head back against the cushions and closed his eyes. He must have dozed, because when he next opened them Bonnie was sitting next to him on the couch and the old clunker of a TV was positioned in front of them. 

It struck him then that they’d been in this place for the better part of a week and all they had done was fail at doing magic - for the most part - and cuddle. God.

Damon rolled his head to the side to look at Bonnie. She had a bowl of popcorn in her lap and he reached over to grab a handful, throwing it into his mouth to get rid of the gross taste of his failures. “What are we watching?”

Bonnie said “ _Jurassic Park,"_ just as the opening music started and gave it away. Damon hadn’t seen the movie in years but he remembered enjoying it. He reached over for another handful of popcorn with Bonnie’s eyes warming the side of his face. “I thought the roaring would at least keep you awake.”

Damon laughed and even _that_ sounded tired to his ears. 

And he really _did_ try to stay awake. He had _incentive_ to stay awake, goddamnit: sleeping could mean being confronted with Elena. Damon might want to see her again more than anything but he sure as hell didn’t want to see her in a context where he couldn’t really touch her, couldn’t really comfort her. It would break him.

Bonnie had been onto something with the loudness of the movie, at least. The clatter of voices and the increasingly frequent roaring was stopping him from doing what he really wanted to, which was to tip his head back against the cushions of the couch and snore like a middle-aged dad. Except without the snoring and tragic dad-bod, of course. 

Bonnie kept glancing over at him to make sure he was awake and when his blinks started to transform into micro naps she nudged him in the thigh. Damon groaned and moved away from her, just asleep enough to be annoyed about it. It was mostly dark outside and his body was rebelling against him. He would lose eventually but for now, he made himself sit up straighter - being nearly horizontal wasn’t helping anything - and actually paid attention to what was going on in the movie. 

When the credits started to roll Damon made himself spring up from the couch and he promptly started doing jumping jacks. Bonnie stared at him like he had grown a second head. Maybe he had, he definitely felt out of it enough for it to be possible. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Damon dropped to the floor and started doing push-ups, clapping in between. The burn in his arms was actually welcome. “Trying to wake myself up.” Bonnie stood up and Damon watched her weirdly cute feet walk away from him. He really _was_ losing it. He switched to doing sit-ups as he heard her moving about the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards for a few minutes before she came back to find him. She was eating a sandwich and Damon pouted. “Where’s mine?”

“Dumbasses don’t get sandwiches,” which was rudely emphasized by Bonnie taking a huge bite and happily chewing away.

Damon paused mid-lunge; they really weren’t practical to do in jeans, he was finding. “I feel like I’m opening myself up to failure here, but why exactly am I dumbass?”

Move to sit with her legs crossed on the couch, Bonnie made him wait through another few bites of her sandwich before she posed a question of her own. “Why don’t you want to sleep?”

There it was. He had known he was living on borrowed time, but he had thought he might have a little more of it before Bonnie just asked him outright. 

Damon gave up on his stupid workout routine and flopped onto the couch next to Bonnie, their knees knocking painfully together. Damon stared at Bonnie and she just stared right back at him, raising an expectant eyebrow when he didn’t say anything for a minute as she continued to work through her sandwich. Damon didn’t know what to tell her, but she’d hear a lie. 

Her sandwich finished, Bonnie cleared her throat and looked away from him. “Is it because of me?” Now Damon was confused. What was she on about? He tried to catch her gaze but she wouldn’t look at him; was she blushing? It was hard to tell in the dimness of the room. “Because I can sleep in the other room, it’s fine.”

Damon didn’t need access to her thoughts to hear the insecurity there. 

He was shaking his head before he’d thought about it fully and he squeezed her knee once - the bare skin felt scorching against his palm - as he tried to squash down the feeling of unease that formed at the thought of her sleeping away from him. 

“No, it’s not you, I swear… it’s just.” The truth was the easiest route. “The first night we were here, when you stayed at your parent’s house?” Bonnie nodded slightly, looking at him again now, more of a dip of her head encouraging him to continue than anything. “I drank too much and passed out… and I had a nightmare.”

“A nightmare?”

The fact that he couldn’t hear any judgement in her voice made it easier to get the words out, even if he pulled her trick of avoiding eye contact while he did it. “A nightmare about Elena. She was crying, calling my name, but no matter what I did I couldn’t get her to hear me. I couldn’t hug her and tell her that I wasn’t really dead, that I was trying to get back to her.” Damon paused against the emotion he felt and to let Bonnie digest that. In the end he shrugged, self-deprecating. “Sleeping didn’t seem as fun of an idea after that.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Silence encroached and they both let it because what was there to say? Damon was essentially too much of a coward to go to sleep. There wasn’t really too much more to it. Their knees were still touching and Damon found it soothing in the same way a hug from Elena would be soothing. It should make him want to move away from Bonnie but if anything it only made him want to move _closer_ , to touch her more. It was a dangerous thought to have.

“Do you trust me?” 

That snapped Damon back to reality quickly enough to give him whiplash. Bonnie was looking straight at him, eyes intent on his face. Did she even have to ask? “Do you even have to ask?” Her heart gave a strange thump and Damon had to stop himself from looking at her chest in confusion. “Yeah, Bonnie. I trust you.”

She gave him a small smile and Damon held onto it. “Then trust me enough to help you.” Damon opened his mouth to ask what exactly _that_ meant but Bonnie kept talking. “You stopped me from having a nightmare, so why couldn’t I do the same for you?”

Damon hadn’t seen that coming. He trusted Bonnie, but did he really trust her that much? It only took a moment of introspection to realize that yes, he did. Two weeks ago they were grudging allies at best and now Damon would trust her to walk around in his head and see the worst parts of him. The weakest and most vulnerable parts. Something told him that Bonnie would never use them against him. 

It was a good idea in theory, but Bonnie wasn’t actually a vampire. While she seemed to have all of the same enhanced senses that he did, there was substantial evidence to suggest that she still needed to sleep regularly. “What if you fall asleep?”

It was unexpected, that the question made Bonnie drop his eyes and look away from him again, like she was embarrassed. She spoke to the wall across from them. “I, uh… after that first night, I haven’t had another nightmare.” Damon didn’t understand what that was really relevant to - that didn’t mean _he_ wouldn’t have a nightmare - when Bonnie rushed the next words out. “It helps. Sleeping next to you, it helps.”

Now it was his turn to say “oh.”

There was no point in trying to stop himself from feeling a mixture of pleasure and contentment at that so Damon didn’t try; let Bonnie feel it and do with it what she wanted. Knowing that Bonnie trusted him enough to feel comfortable sleeping next to him, to feel _safe_ sleeping next to him, made Damon feel better than he had in awhile. 

It didn’t make him feel any more awake though: if he didn’t do something soon the decision was going to be taken out of his hands and he’d pass out on the floor. 

Damon stood up and almost offered Bonnie a hand up before he realized that would feel a little too declarative. He was about to sleep in a bed _with_ her, he wasn’t about to _bed her_. They were two very different things. 

“Time’s a tickin, Ms Bennett. I’m fucking wiped.” Bonnie stood up and Damon had an idea that made him grin at her. “First one to the bed picks their side!”

He whooshed from the room and heard Bonnie’s disgruntled shout from behind him. Swapping sides was all well and good when Damon was staying awake but his side was _his side_ when he was actually planning on being unconscious for any length of time. He beat her, just barely, jumping onto the bed so that he bounced ridiculously. Vampire running momentum was really something else. 

Bonnie glared at him from the foot of the bed. “What, you’re going to sleep in your jeans?”

The implication that Bonnie would steal his spot if he got up was enough to have Damon bending and contorting himself to get undressed right where he was, thank you. She huffed in annoyance but Damon could feel her eyes on him like a brand when he was down to nothing but his underwear. There was that feeling again, of being suspended high above the ground, walking along a wire that either of them could plunge down off of at any moment.

Never let it be said that Damon didn’t like to play with fire.

Damon hooked his thumbs under the band of his briefs and raised an eyebrow. “Either you grab me some pants or you get an eyeful -” Said pants hit him square in the face as Bonnie whooshed into the bathroom; the tap started running as she brushed her teeth. Fuck. Damon should probably do that too, considering he no doubt had popcorn-puke breath. He took off his underwear and pulled on the pants in record time and then hesitated, reluctant to give up his spot.

Bonnie rolled her eyes when she came back into the room and saw his inner turmoil. “What are you, twelve? I won’t actually steal your spot if you go and brush your teeth, Damon.”

Oh, thank god. Damon used the bathroom - it should feel weirder to do it with Bonnie within hearing distances than it did - and brushed his teeth as fast as he could without tearing his gums to shreds on the off chance that Bonnie was lying and she actually _had_ stolen his spot. 

Damon whooshed back into the room to find his spot free and clear of thieving witches and the spot beside him occupied by the aforementioned thieving witch, who was under the sheets already. He froze in a big way, an obvious way. Bonnie’s expression curdled. It was hard to tell if she was angry or hurt or both. “Damon, if you want me to sleep in the other room -”

“No! No.” Real smooth, Salvatore. Damon rushed to get into bed beside her like the thought of sleeping underneath the sheets with nothing separating them wasn’t making him panic. “It’s fine! I just… I like to cuddle.”

Wow. A deflection so bad that Damon wanted to stake himself, or go for a run out of the second-storey window. Three days without sleep and he turned into a grade-A dweeb. It was ten times worse because there was no lie for Bonnie to detect: Damon _did_ like to cuddle and Bonnie’s response of a snort-laugh-cough hybrid was entirely justified.

What she said in response was completely out of left field, though. “D, if I didn’t want you to touch me, don’t you think I would have said something by now?”

The combination of Bonnie using that godawful - he loved it - nickname and implying that she _wanted_ to touch him would have been enough to knock him on his ass if he wasn’t already lying down and it wasn’t even an entirely new revelation. 

He had known, intellectually, that for some reason Bonnie didn’t care when he touched her. That she might enjoy the comfort, maybe. That there was a chance that she was seeking it out just as much as he was. To have that confirmed was still more than a little heady and Damon didn’t know what to do about it. Bonnie basically giving him permission to cuddle her in his _sleep_? It was fucking insanity, as far as Damon was concerned.

One of these days he was going to have to ask Bonnie _why_ exactly she didn’t care about him touching her when he’d spent the last three months watching her flinch away from basically everyone else. Right now, Damon was too tired and scared of the answer to ask. 

“Well, don’t say that I didn’t warn you.” 

Damon closed his eyes and moved his head against his pillow until it was appropriately squished. It wasn’t as comfortable as his pillow back home but he was definitely tired enough that it wasn’t really going to matter five minutes from now. Bonnie was still looking at him though, he could feel it. Was she going to go straight to sleep too? It probably wasn’t fair to ask her to stay awake just in case he started to have a nightmare.

The bed was big enough that they could feasibly go the entire night without touching each other. That being said, Damon still felt the shifting of the mattress as Bonnie squirmed around, encasing herself in her usual sheet cocoon. Damon already felt so relaxed that part of him thought that Bonnie was right: sleeping next to her would probably be better. Nightmare free.

What would Elena have to say about it though, if she knew? Would she object to the idea of Damon and Bonnie sharing a bed, even if it was just for mutual comfort reasons? Damon knew that he was so devoted to Elena that she’d never really had to be jealous before; would this qualify?

Bonnie’s breathing was already evening out and Damon felt like he was losing a race. Wasn’t _he_ supposed to be the tired one? Right on cue Bonnie’s sleepy voice drifted into his head, bumping against his rioting thoughts and making them disperse like a physical thing. _Just relax, will you? Go to sleep._

Damon was only human. Or, at least, he knew when to do what he was told. 

As soon as he acknowledged the tiredness in his mind and body Damon felt himself literally sinking into the mattress, sleep capturing him so quickly that there was nothing he could do to resist it. Between one thought and the next he was asleep, completely dead to the world. 

The nightmares he had been so eager to keep at bay never came. 

What dreams he did have were only brief flashes of sensation: the sound of laughter, the suggestion of warmth, a flash of brown skin, the lilt of a deep British accent. The feeling of being held close and truly cared for and loved, surrounded by it. Nothing in the realm of something he’d want to be woken up from. 

When he blinked his eyes open, early morning light was only just beginning to filter into the room and Damon felt more relaxed than he had maybe ever been. At first he wasn’t sure what had woken him up, then he heard Bonnie’s feet lightly touch the floor. 

“Bon?”

A small hand squeezed his ankle through the sheets as she walked around the bed. “Shh, go back to sleep. Need to pee.”

“Mhm.” Damon’s eyes drifted closed as he stretched. The sheets directly in front of him were warm and he knew that Bonnie had definitely started off further away. Had they been cuddling after all? Damon tried to feel embarrassed or awkward and couldn’t quite manage it when he felt so content. He drifted in and out of sleep until Bonnie gently hopped up onto the bed and got back underneath the sheets.

If the warmth of the sheets had told him that they had been sleeping pressed up against each other, Bonnie certainly wasn’t close enough to touch now. Seeking each other out in their sleep was one thing but Damon knew it would be a step too far to reach for her now no matter how much he wanted to. And god, he wanted to.

But Bonnie had already fallen back asleep, so Damon forced himself to follow suit. Bonnie had been right about sleeping together - uh, sleeping with each other? It all sounded so illicit. Sleeping _beside_ each other kept the nightmares at bay, she’d been right about that much. However they wanted to word it, Damon had a feeling that it would be happening again. 

The next time he opened his eyes the room was bathed in light and Bonnie was nowhere to be seen. 

Damon rolled over and rubbed at his eyes, stretching out his legs and pointing his toes until _something_ popped. That felt amazing. _He_ felt amazing. He’d never slept so well before. 

Where had the little witch gotten to? Damon threw his hearing outwards, expecting to hear Bonnie puttering around in the kitchen. Her heartbeat, when he heard it, was much closer than he thought it would be. Bonnie wasn’t in his room, that much was obvious. At a guess she wasn’t in the room next door either. Damon’s heart started to pound as he realized that he knew _exactly_ where she was.

Uncle Zach’s room.

Damon jumped out of bed and whooshed down the hallway so fast that he had to catch himself on the doorway to stop himself from literally falling into the room. He was immediately confronted with the exact reason that he hadn’t gone inside before now: the half of the room not taken up by the bed had been transformed into a nursery, painted in soft yellows and greens. There was a crib a safe distance from the window, a soft looking blanket inside of it. A bunny teddy stared at him accusingly.

Bonnie was standing in the middle of it all with her back to him and Damon felt faint, felt sick. She wasn’t supposed to find out like this. “Bonnie -”

When Bonnie turned to look at him Damon saw that she was holding something in her hands; it was an old clunker of a video camera, the viewfinder screen kicked out and playing something. Damon gripped the wall harder when he heard _her_ voice. Bonnie’s expression was confused, baffled even. His emotions must be a tidal wave right now. “Damon, who is this?”

Gravity had a tight grip on Damon and he let it drag him to the floor, falling on his ass when his legs refused to hold him up anymore. Now Bonnie looked confused for a completely different reason and he couldn’t blame her. 

This was his greatest shame and he wasn’t ready for Bonnie to look at him differently and he knew that she would, because how couldn’t she? Damon hated himself for what he had done to her. 

Damon wouldn’t be surprised if telling Bonnie this completely erased all the progress they’d made with each other over the last few days. It was almost enough to stop him from telling her the truth, to make up some pretty lie instead. Damon only entertained the idea for a moment because he knew that when it really came down to it, he couldn’t do that to Bonnie. She deserved the truth and he would give it to her, and whatever consequences that came from it Damon would just have to deal with. He took a deep breath and choked out the words.

“Her name was Gail.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus we've come to the end of Damon's POV for a while! The next part will be from Bonnie's perspective, and the rating will be bumped up to 'E' Explicit. Hopefully the first chapter of that will be out in the next week or so.
> 
> As always, any comments or kudos you have to offer are appreciated so much! Feel free to come chat with me over on tumblr at [@bonbennett!](http://bonbennett.tumblr.com/)


	9. i'll only hurt you if you let me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Damon could be cruel and calculating and violent, but it wasn’t all that he was." 
> 
> We're back in Bonnie's POV, and finding out how she feels about what's been happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title is from 'when the party's over' by billie eilish 
> 
> the rating has also been changed to 'e' for explicit now!

**bonnie -**

The sun had only just begun to filter in through the windows along the side of the house and yet Bonnie was out of bed and standing in front of the only door that had been closed to her since they had arrived in this place.

A healthy amount of fear was stopping her from just opening it and walking inside. What could possibly be contained within this room, to be capable of making Damon feel like he was drowning in guilt and agony? Bonnie was picturing bodies hanging from the ceiling or something else equally disturbing. Apprehension or not, her curiosity was killing her and now felt like the perfect opportunity to sate it.

Damon was still asleep in his room and she probably only had so much time before he got up and came to investigate what she was up to. Bonnie reached out and gripped the door handle, holding her breath as her fingers touched the metal. One simple twist and a push and the door swung inwards, details of the room being slowly revealed to her inch by inch.

Bonnie covered her mouth to stifle the sound of her gasp.

The room was exactly like Damon’s, huge bed and minimal furnishings, but it differed in one glaringly obvious way: one half of the room was full of baby things. There was a crib and a changing table, and a rocking chair for nursing that Bonnie guessed was handmade. The walls had been lovingly painted with a forest scene and Bonnie’s feet carried her into the room of their own volition. 

Her heart began to pound. Why would Damon keep this from her? There was nothing awful about this, at least nothing that was immediately jumped out at her. Bonnie moved around the room snooping as quietly as she could until she found something worth investigating: a camcorder. 

It was ancient and it took Bonnie a second to figure out how to use it, but she eventually flipped out the screen and pressed play.

What was obviously an at-home type of video appeared on the little screen. It had been filmed inside of the Boarding House - downstairs, by the look of it - and the quality wasn’t the best, but it featured a man and a woman. It took all of thirty seconds for Bonnie to realize that they were the textbook definition of young and in love, and expecting a baby by the look of things. Bonnie was so enthralled by what she was seeing that she didn’t hear Damon get out of bed; he must have vamp-run into the room.

“Bonnie -”

Bonnie turned to look at Damon and his emotions almost knocked her over, they were so overwhelming. Every bit of his grief that she’d felt over the last week was magnified tenfold and the anguish on his face was clear. He was gripping the door frame like it was the only thing keeping him upright. Bonnie couldn’t miss the moment that he saw the camcorder in her hands and heard the voices coming out of it because his expression fell even further; her heart felt like it was going to pound right out of her chest.

“Damon, who is this?” Her voice was a little shaky but Bonnie didn’t care.

Damon slid to the floor and Bonnie had no idea what was going on. If she had to guess Damon was right on the verge of hyperventilating - he might have already been there if he were human - and she just wanted to know what was wrong, who these people on the video were. Who this room belonged to.

She got her answer when Damon murmured, “Her name was Gail.”

It took a second for Bonnie to process that. Okay, so the pregnant woman in the video was Gail. The fact that Damon’s grief had grown exponentially as soon as he’d seen the inside of the room and heard Gail’s voice wasn’t leading Bonnie to any satisfying conclusions. If anything she felt like she had far more questions than answers right now. “Okay. Who’s Gail?”

Damon disappeared from the doorway and Bonnie blinked at the space he’d been occupying. What the fuck? “Damon?”

“In here.” His voice was coming from the direction of his bedroom and Bonnie followed it, the camcorder still held in her hands. She found him sitting on his bed with his arms resting on his knees. He looked up when she walked in. “Sorry, I just… I couldn’t be in there.”

Bonnie’s instincts were rioting within her. Why did Bonnie feel like, no matter where this story went, she wasn’t going to like it? 

Part of her wanted to keep some distance between herself and Damon but another part of her - the part that won out - told her to get up onto the bed to sit beside him. “Damon, I’m going to need you to tell me exactly what’s going on, here.” She put the camcorder down on the bed after pausing the video and Damon physically recoiled from it. 

Silence reigned around them. Damon’s eyes were on his knees but Bonnie could tell that his gaze was unfocused, like he was caught up in a memory. Every fibre of her being was telling her to push him, to ask him again, but Bonnie just waited him out. Five minutes passed before he started talking.

“It was 1994. I’d spent the last… god, I don’t even remember how long in New York. I was awful, Bonnie. Terrorizing people left and right, a trail of bodies behind me longer than the Nile.” Memories of Damon when he’d first landed in their lives came back to Bonnie then. Brutal violence and not a care in the world. If _Damon_ was saying he was bad, Bonnie could only imagine. He grinned, almost rueful. “I was tired of it. Tired enough that I came back to Mystic Falls looking for my brother.”

Wait, Stefan had been in Mystic Falls in 1994? They all would have been toddlers then. It was crazy to think that he’d been there and none of them had even known it. Had their parents been friends with him? Bonnie didn’t feel like interrupting Damon so she didn’t, trusting that he would keep talking eventually.

“I found him right here. He’d built a life for himself and he didn’t want to see me. Which was fair, considering the last he’d heard I’d left his best friend - Lexi, you’ve met her? - on a rooftop to die. I tried to walk into the house but Stefan told me that my Uncle Zach, who was actually my nephew, owned the property. I’d have to be invited in.” 

Damon shook his head then, the smallest movement. Bonnie realized that she’d been gradually leaning closer to him as he spoke and she made herself sit up straight, away from him. “If Uncle Zach had just refused to invite me in… but he didn’t. So I got to live at the Boarding House and be close to my brother.

“But Stefan was on his vegan diet. That’s never been my speed and I was bad at pretending. Uncle Zach, he had a girlfriend. Gail. She was pregnant, and they were both on vervain.” 

Bonnie knew by now how easy it could be to get someone to stop taking vervain. All Katherine had to do was tell Jenna that she didn’t like her perfume and Jenna had been off of vervain the very next day, with a self-inflicted stab wound in the gut as a souvenir. “You got them off of it?”

Damon nodded. “They were drinking it in their coffee so it was easy enough to switch out. I thought I was being good, drinking from them instead of people outside of the house. Uncle Zach knew about vampires and I compelled them to forget every time, but Stefan found out. He… wasn’t happy. Snapped my neck and threw me in an out building without my daylight ring.” Damon twirled the very same ring around his finger. Bonnie might be more vampire than she wasn’t, but the sun didn’t burn her skin; she hadn’t even thought to appreciate that. 

“When I woke up, Stefan was waiting.” Damon’s pained expression was almost enough for Bonnie’s instincts to drown out the rational side of her; she wanted to touch him. To comfort him. Whatever part of her that had wanted to get away from him had gone completely silent. “He asked me why I’d come back into his life and told him that I wanted to be good, to be better, when I just went and broke all of the rules he’d set out.

“He didn’t actually believe that I’d come back because I missed him, but it was the truth. I’d spent so long killing people and not caring about anyone that I wanted to feel human again, or to feel anything at all. And I was stupid. I asked Stefan to leave with me, to go on some epic brothers road trip… I even told him I’d let him drive my car, but I think I ruined it by telling him that I’d get him off of his vegan diet.” 

Bonnie felt just a little sorry for him, then. “He said no.”

“He said no, and fuck you very much. Stefan said he knew what a road trip with me would look like: a lot of innocent dead people, me forcing him to drink human blood and laughing at him while he suffered… He blamed me for making him drink human blood in 1912, and said it’s what made him become the Ripper.” Damon’s laugh was hollow. “Gotta say that one stung a little.”

It was hard to bite her tongue then because she wanted to defend Damon. Sure, he never should have forced Stefan to drink human blood, but Damon wasn’t to blame for Stefan becoming one of the most prolific serial killers America had ever seen. Stefan was more than capable of making his own choices.

“Stefan thought I had only come back to screw up his life because I knew he was happy and I said that’s not what I was trying to do… He said I didn’t need to try, that all I had to do was exist.”

Oh, screw that. When they finally got out of this hellhole and back to the life they had left behind, Bonnie was going to punch Stefan in the fucking face. Damon was a terribly flawed person, but he didn’t deserve to hear _that_ from his brother. Bonnie reached out then, helpless to stop herself, and touched Damon’s hand. He flinched away as soon as she made contact and Bonnie pulled her hand back in shock. 

“Don’t. Don’t, not until you’ve heard the whole story.” There was a tense moment of silence then, broken by Bonnie nodding and saying quietly, “okay.”

It took a minute for Damon to keep going. “I haven’t said what day this was. May tenth, 1994.”

Oh. “The day of the eclipse.”

“The day of the eclipse. There was a party at the house to watch it. Heaps of people. Stefan still had my daylight ring but when the eclipse started… the sun was gone.” It was easy to understand then, what had happened. Damon wasn’t trapped anymore once the sun was behind the moon, and he’d gotten back into the house. They had all experienced time and time again what happened when Damon was hurting but Bonnie had to ask him; she knew, but she had to hear him say the words.

“How many people did you kill, Damon?”

His voice was barely above a whisper. “All of them.”

To hear her suspicions confirmed was still jarring. Bonnie pushed away from him, landing on the floor on unsteady feet. “Gail?”

“Stefan and Uncle Zach came running when they heard the screaming. They found me holding her. She was the last one alive… I saved her for last, Bonnie.” The wetness on Bonnie’s cheeks was confusing until she realized that she was crying. “I asked Stefan for my ring and he gave it to me. Uncle Zach was begging me not to kill her. I just wanted Stefan to understand that I hadn’t made him into what he was. That when he sent Lexi to pull me back from the brink it hurt because it should have been _him_ coming to help me, not her.

“When he forced me to become a vampire I promised him an eternity of misery. And he was going to get it, whether he liked it or not. I ripped Gail’s throat out, and I ran. Didn’t come back to Mystic Falls until Stefan did, when I was looking for Katherine and found Elena instead.” 

Damon paused to heave in a deep breath before he looked at Bonnie straight on, emotion making his eyes an even brighter blue. “When I saw Uncle Zach again I couldn’t look at him without seeing Gail so I killed him too, Bonnie.”

Bonnie’s ears were ringing. 

She felt torn in two. Part of her was screaming that Damon had killed a pregnant woman in cold blood; that he’d robbed an unborn child of life. Another part of her could only think of the extreme guilt that Damon felt, the guilt that _she_ had felt in turn. The very same guilt she could feel coursing through her right now as he watched her reacting to one of the most awful things she’d ever heard. 

Bonnie could feel the hatred that Damon felt for himself. Bonnie could have laughed at the ridiculousness - the selfishness - of ever feeling offended when Damon had first said that this place was his personal hell. He didn’t think that because he was stuck here with _her_ , he thought that because he was trapped reliving the day he’d done something he would never be able to come back from.

All of that might be true, but it didn’t change that Bonnie needed to get away from him.

It was impossible to think with his emotions clattering around in her head and clouding her judgement. The last time she had drunk from him was almost two days ago, now. Surely the effect of their connection would run out soon. It was tiring constantly blocking Damon from hearing her thoughts and she’d have to do it longer, now, after giving him that little blood pick me up yesterday. 

Bonnie walked over to her bag and picked it up, walking from the room without a backwards glance. She could hear that Damon didn’t move from his spot on the bed and Bonnie went into the room adjacent to his - the room she should have been sleeping in the whole time - and closed the door. She didn’t slam it, but the meaning would be clear to Damon all the same: stay out. 

Scrubbing furiously at her tear-stained cheeks Bonnie threw off her clothes - _why_ did she pick out Damon’s shirt to wear, anyway? She’d brought her own pyjamas - and got dressed. She was long overdue to actually get out of the house and now felt like the perfect time. Bonnie walked back to stand in the doorway of Damon’s room; he still hadn’t moved, his misery hanging around him like a cloud. 

“I’ll be back.” Or maybe she wouldn’t. Bonnie hadn’t actually decided yet. Damon’s head snapped up and his mouth opened but Bonnie looked at him, fixing a glare on her face, until he closed it again. “Don’t follow me, Damon.”

And then she did the cowardly thing, which was to whoosh right out of the room, downstairs, and out the front door. As she passed through the spell protecting the house Bonnie’s ears popped and she grimaced. Of course this place was hell, if _Damon_ had more magic than her. Her Grams must have been bullshitting Bonnie when she had told her that she would help Bonnie find peace.

Once she had crossed the front lawn and passed the treeline Bonnie slowed down, picking her way through the trees carefully so she didn’t accidentally stab herself. In a way she understood why Damon was reluctant to try any violent spells on her; they had no way of knowing if her vampire perks would extend to her having accelerated healing, or a near inability to be killed. Better not to chance it.

The barest stretch in her senses told her that Damon wasn’t following her. It was a relief to know that he was actually respecting her wishes for once. 

For a lack of anywhere particular to go, Bonnie headed towards town. Walking around for an hour or two would help to clear her head. Maybe she could stay at her parents’ for a while and give the Boarding House and Damon a miss entirely? 

What Damon had done to Gail - and everyone else at the Boarding House that day - was fucking awful. Bonnie couldn’t deny that she had felt his agony every day that they had been here, though; he might have told her that he saved Gail for last but if Bonnie had to guess, given the opportunity to go back to the real May tenth, 1994, Damon wouldn’t do it again. 

Damon could be cruel and calculating and violent, but it wasn’t all that he was. 

Bonnie knew first hand now that Damon had a capacity for kindness and compassion, and for comfort and care. While they were traits that she wouldn’t have necessarily expected from Damon, at least not directed towards her, they also didn’t seem false coming from him, or like he was trying to manipulate her. Even before they’d landed in this place Bonnie had seen the all-consuming way that Damon loved Elena. He did bad things, horrible things, but he wasn’t a bad _person_. He wasn’t beyond saving, like Silas had been.

Silas had been a psychopath; violence amused and delighted him, and causing people misery had been a fun perk. Bonnie would bet good money on Silas never having felt guilt for anything he had done in his entire life. Damon wasn’t like that.

Bonnie laughed out loud, the sound of it jarring in the otherwise silence around her. If you had told Bonnie two weeks ago that she would be trying to rationalize Damon murdering a pregnant woman, she would have had you committed. And yet that’s exactly what she was doing. Is this what happened, when you were forced into isolation with someone? Was this Stockholm syndrome, or something? 

Damon’s misery was still making itself known in the back of her mind and Bonnie was finding it hard to tune it out even with the distance she was putting between them. There was no part of him that felt good about what he’d done and Bonnie was beginning to think that it would have to be enough, Stockholm syndrome or not; she’d have to find solace in it. It wasn’t enough for Bonnie to forgive him, but it was something.

Bonnie didn’t know how long she had been walking when she finally crossed into the town proper. There was the little grocery store that Damon must have gone to the other day. Bonnie by-passed it, wanting to avoid everything related to Damon for the time being. 

They’d been getting too close to each other.

Flirting with Damon, however innocently, was one thing. Bonnie felt like it was just a normal extension of their banter and nothing that they hadn’t engaged in before, even though Bonnie wasn’t so stupid as to tell herself she’d feel comfortable doing it in front of Elena. It felt like she and Damon were playing a game of cat and mouse, or chicken. If they kept at it one of them would eventually lose.

Like the other day when they’d fed each other, after their connection had abruptly broken and Bonnie had been terrified that whoever they were stuck in this place with had killed Damon. Watching Damon’s face transform as the spidering veins underneath his eyes appeared and his fangs dropped was just as mesmerising as it had been the first time Bonnie had seen it up close. 

It still didn’t hurt when he fed from her and that hadn’t stopped being really fucking weird. If anything it made her feel ten times more aware of every part of her body; the urge to touch him that had been quietly simmering under the surface for the past few days had risen to the forefront of her mind. 

The idea of Damon knowing that was so terrifying that Bonnie had deliberately focused on how feeding from her was making Damon feel, hoping it would distract him.

And it _did_ make him feel good. His enjoyment was obvious to her and Bonnie didn’t understand why her pointing it out had made him close his eyes, a sudden burst of embarrassment leaking over their connection. It had been easier to graze her own fangs against his wrist without the piercing blue of his eyes on her, but that only lasted as long as it took him to look at her when she asked him without words if she could feed from him too.

The sight of him when he’d pulled away from her wrist had made warmth pool somewhere low in her belly. 

Damon’s fangs were stained red by her blood and his eyes looked luminescent, his hair somehow disheveled even though no one had touched it. He was _hot_ and Bonnie hated him for it, and hated even more that he probably knew what she was thinking. So she had drunk from him and licked the pinprick holes she’d left behind afterwards, relishing in the spike of lust that Damon couldn’t hide from her. If he was going to rile her up on purpose, two could play at that game.

Knowing that Damon felt attracted to her - even in passing - made Bonnie feel perversely powerful. Walking down the streets of a Mystic Falls now, the thought was enough to make Bonnie smirk.

Remembering the way she had fucked up when he’d been shirtless in front of her made that smirk quickly turn into a grimace. She’d made such a fool of herself. All she had wanted to know was if he could hear her thoughts or not - if she was going to find him attractive to the point of it being annoying, Bonnie didn’t need Damon knowing about it - and he’d been his usual self, flexing with his pants slung so low on his hips that Bonnie’s eyes had wanted to linger on the skin there. 

Damon had implied that Bonnie was jealous of Elena and Bonnie should have ignored it, she _wished_ she had ignored it, but instead she had said no. And it had been a lie, one that she knew that Damon had heard by the way his smile had dropped clean off of his face. It had been a small miracle that Bonnie was able to deflect his attention elsewhere after that, she knew that much. 

God. If Damon hearing the lie in her heartbeat had been bad, the Shower Incident had been infinitely worse. Remembering the expression on his face when he’d walked in on her, as naked as the day she was born, nearly made Bonnie trip over her own feet.

Since she’d been staying at the Boarding House and making use of Damon’s bathroom, Bonnie’s options for soap and body wash were limited exclusively to the products that Damon had in his shower; the products he himself used. And Bonnie enjoyed using them because she enjoyed smelling like Damon. As weird as it was it was also comforting and Bonnie had decided to embrace it considering that there was no one there to judge her for it. 

But smelling like Damon had led to thinking _about_ Damon and Bonnie had found out the hard way just how dangerous that was to do while naked. 

Her nipples had barely begun to tighten before Bonnie had blasted herself in the face with cold water in the hopes that it’d knock some sense into her. Turns out being cold as hell worked wonders for making you stop thinking about your best friend’s vampire boyfriend, however temporarily.

Shower fundamentally over, she had been able to see herself reflected in the mirror half distorted by steam, and Bonnie had let herself look because she could hear that Damon was still downstairs. Her hair was dripping onto her shoulders and while the cold water had curtailed her thoughts it hadn’t really done anything to eradicate her low-grade arousal.

Like they had a mind of their own Bonnie’s hands started to wander… and Damon bumped into something downstairs. Bonnie had sworn quietly with her hands suspended above her body, inches away from where she wanted to touch. To _be_ touched. 

The insanity of the situation had dawned on her then. What was she doing, staring at herself naked and thinking about Damon? Thinking about Damon like _that_? 

Bonnie had grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself, walking back out into Damon’s room with the intention of grabbing the clothes she should have taken into the bathroom in the first place. Without checking to see where Damon was in the house Bonnie had dropped the towel, was just about to bend over to get underwear out of her bag, when Damon had appeared in the middle of the room.

Somehow, in the split second before he slapped a hand over his eyes like a scandalized school marm, Damon had managed to rake his eyes hotly over Bonnie from head to toe. That certainly hadn’t made her feel _less_ turned on.

Thinking about it now as she walked through an eerily silent Mystic Falls, Bonnie was glad that there was no one - or at least she hoped there was no one; the only heartbeat she could hear was her own - to see her blushing at the memory.

Like the awkward idiot that she was Bonnie had run straight back into the bathroom, underwear forgotten. When she had looked at herself in the mirror for a second time her eyes were as wide as saucers and she felt more than a little light-headed.

Damon’s lust - his lust for _her_ \- had hit her then and Bonnie couldn’t help the answering pulse between her legs, moving to grab one of the million bars of soap Damon had laying around and throwing it blindly out at him. _Anything_ to distract him while she quietly panicked and tried to think about something that wasn’t the look in his eyes when he’d seen her.

Bonnie had known that she had hit Damon when he swore and she welcomed his distracted hopping around the room as she yelled at him. She was more annoyed with herself than anything. Why hadn’t she heard him? Her hearing was better than his, she was guessing. She would have been able to find him straight away in a crowded room and yet she couldn’t hear him coming upstairs?

Damon had thrown her discarded towel into the bathroom and Bonnie had lunged for it, drying herself off properly before she had walked out into the bedroom to find Damon flopped on the bed, seemingly trying to suffocate himself with a pillow. 

It felt… Bonnie didn’t even know how it felt, to be naked so close to Damon. 

Somehow it felt just as scandalous to be pulling on her underwear, his pyjama shirt and another pair of shorts as it would have to be taking them off. Knowing that Damon was attracted to her was heady, more intoxicating than any drug. It was nothing like Jeremy being attracted to her; that had only been flattering as long as it had taken Bonnie to realize that Jeremy would find a curvaceous tree sexy. This felt completely different.

Thank fucking god that Bonnie could shield her thoughts from Damon.

Bonnie had laughed at him and accused him of being a prude. Damon had squawked and thrown the pillow at her, and just like that things were back to normal between them; back to their new normal, anyway.

Instead of focusing on her tumultuous feelings for Damon, Bonnie focused on her surroundings and realized that she had little to no idea where she was. After a few wrong turns she found a grocery store and figured she may as well go in. As she walked towards the doors she half expected that she would have to break in because every part of this place felt like a scene out of some B-grade apocalypse movie, but they opened soundlessly for her.

It felt disturbingly normal.

As she entered the store Bonnie realized that sometime in her walk about town, she’d made a decision. She could be stubborn - and stupid - and stay at her parent’s house and just try to find them a way out of this hellhole herself while taking her chances with the intruder, or she could go back to the Boarding House and work things out with Damon. As much as it annoyed her, Bonnie knew which option she wanted to choose.

There was a stack of shopping baskets near the door and Bonnie grabbed one.

What did they even need? Damon seemed to like eggs and they were easy to cook different ways, so Bonnie grabbed a few cartons of those. Fruit and some muesli went into the basket for her, as well as a block of chocolate or three. Bonnie had a sweet tooth and she may as well indulge it while they were stuck here. Even after she’d added some cartons of juice and milk to her basket Bonnie couldn’t feel the weight of it; score.

One thing Bonnie _could_ feel was the phantom pressure of Damon against her back, almost connected to her from head to toe. Damon had warned her that he liked to cuddle as if Bonnie hadn’t guessed as much already, but Bonnie hadn’t expected to experience the full extent of it even after she’d basically given Damon carte blanche to touch her.

The revelation of that morning didn’t make Bonnie regret helping Damon sleep, either. He had looked dead on his feet - more literally than usual - and over the course of the last week Bonnie had decided that she cared about Damon; she didn’t want to see him suffer for no reason. That was how Bonnie had justified it to herself at the time, anyway. 

Would she act differently now? Only time would tell.

Nothing out of the ordinary had happened, at first. Like the previous three nights Bonnie had spent sleeping at Damon’s side she hadn’t had nightmares, only indistinct but pleasant dreams: the permeating feeling of safety, hands on her waist, two male voices rumbling and interweaving in conversation, the smell of leather and spicy aftershave.

When Bonnie had woken up in the middle of the night it had been unclear whether Damon had moved closer to her or if she had moved closer to him - it could have been a combination of both - but however it had happened they were pressed as closely together as they could be with clothes on. 

Damon’s legs were tucked behind Bonnie’s own bent ones and he was curved around her, his face tucked against her neck. One big hand had found its way underneath her shirt - _his_ shirt - to rest on the skin of her stomach and it had felt so _right_ and _good_ in that moment that Bonnie hadn’t known what to do, so she had just stared at the window in front of her for ten minutes like an idiot. She should have moved. She _definitely_ should have moved. 

And yet… After spending months dodging even the most fleeting of touches from the people she cared about most in the world, Bonnie had felt like she deserved a moment of affection and kindness, even if it was from Damon Salvatore. Bonnie had gone back to sleep.

Now, wandering through a grocery store with Damon’s misery ringing like a bell in her head, what had happened last night felt so far away as to have never happened at all. If Bonnie had any brains she would be happy with that and yet, in a strange way, she wanted to be able to go back to that place with Damon. 

The store she’d ended up in actually had a pretty decent fresh produce section and Bonnie picked over it, grabbing some leafy greens, some nice looking mushrooms and a bag of potatoes. When she saw that there was fresh meat she decided that she would make dinner, just something to distract Damon while they talked. Because they were going to have to talk about this, Bonnie knew that much. 

Mind made up, Bonnie ended up adding the ingredients for a stroganoff to her basket because she knew how to make it pretty well and who didn’t like stroganoff, anyway? Bonnie stood at the register for a good two minutes before she realized that one perk of this awful place was that they didn’t have to pay for the groceries. Basket full to bursting but comfortably held in the crook of her arm Bonnie exited the store, making it approximately two steps before she froze. 

Someone was watching her.

Bonnie didn’t know _how_ she knew, because she couldn’t hear another heartbeat over the now rapid sound of her own, but something about the way her skin was tingling told her that there were eyes on her. The urge to make a break for it was strong but Bonnie made herself move slowly down the street as she tried to think of what to do. 

When Damon’s permeating feeling of misery transformed into confusion in Bonnie’s mind she realized that she was so panicked that she wasn’t concentrating on blocking him from her thoughts. May as well go for broke, then, and make sure that she wasn’t freaking out for no reason.

_Damon, are you still at the house?_

Bonnie wanted to smack herself as soon as she directed the thought his way. He hadn’t been able to send thoughts back to her before now and he probably wouldn’t be able to - 

_I’m still - where - you?_

Bonnie breathed out shakily. It wasn’t a full sentence but it was _something._ It wasn’t necessarily a good something right then, because it meant that whoever was staring at Bonnie wasn’t the vampire she was kind of mad at but on her way to forgiving. 

It was difficult to play it cool when she’d probably already blown her cover by freezing so dramatically in the first place, but Bonnie picked up her pace just slightly and made for the Boarding House.

Not knowing who was watching her was fucking terrifying. Was it the same person who had ripped up the blood bags at the hospitals, and broken into the house? Was _that_ even the same person? There was no way of knowing if whoever it was had any idea that she was more vampire than witch right now.. Something in her gut told Bonnie to keep it that way; to walk at a normal human speed instead of whooshing back to the safety of the house and of _Damon_ like she wanted to. 

Thinking about Damon seemed to give him the ability to shout her name in her head; it was obvious that he was panicking and Bonnie didn’t know what to do with the knowledge that he cared enough about her to worry like this.

_I’m okay, don’t leave the house. I think someone is watching me._

Not that Bonnie thought Damon would find that particularly reassuring, but hopefully he’d actually listen to her for once - or rather, twice in one day - and stay where he was. They’d be sitting ducks if they were both out of the protection offered by the spell he’d put on the house. It was at least reassuring to know that Bonnie would be able to defend herself without the help of magic, or Damon, if whoever was following her got brave and attacked her.

The walk back to the Boarding House felt much longer when Bonnie could tell that her stalker was keeping pace with her. 

Damon’s emotions were a whirl of panic in her head and it was hard to concentrate on staying calm but Bonnie kept telling herself that she was going to be fine, not caring that Damon could hear her thoughts; it seemed like too much effort to shield them from him right now. She was going to make it back home without a scratch on her, and she was going to tell Damon that while she couldn’t forgive him wholly for what he’d done to Gail, she knew that he wasn’t a bad person, that he was trying to be better. 

Walking back through the forest with a basket bursting with groceries over her arm made Bonnie think a little hysterically of Little Red Riding Hood. Was her stalker the wolf, waiting to rip her throat out? It felt a little like that. Not knowing was killing her.

Finally the Boarding House came into view and Bonnie had to grit her teeth against her desire to just bolt for the door. A hundred feet more and she would be safe and sound, she just had to breathe through her fear. 

That was slightly easier to do because Bonnie could sense that Damon was waiting directly behind the front door - he had listened to her, thank fuck - just as much as she could sense that whoever was following her had moved closer. Bonnie picked up her pace slightly. 

A twig snapped behind her, nearer than she would have expected. 

Bonnie squeaked and broke into what she hoped was a completely natural looking jog to get to the front door just that little bit quicker. Her basket was banging into her hip painfully and it was more than a relief to have the door swing open in front of her, Damon closing it almost as soon as she’d passed over the threshold. 

The spell protecting the house enveloped her and Bonnie welcomed the popping of her ears, dropping the basket as delicately as she could so that she could bend double with her hands on her knees. She felt like she’d just power-walked the most intense marathon of her life. 

Damon was hovering as closely as he could be without actually touching her and Bonnie appreciated it; she didn’t hate him and she was back probably for good, but letting him touch her right now would have felt like too much. 

After a handful of seconds spent catching her breath Bonnie scooped up her basket of groceries and moved past Damon, heading for the kitchen. It was too warm in the house to leave the milk out for long. As she’d thought he would, Damon followed her closely. He managed to contain himself until Bonnie put the basket on the kitchen counter, then he practically burst open with questions:

“Are you okay? Did they hurt you? Do you really think I’m not a bad person?”

The last one threw her for a loop until she remembered that she still wasn’t blocking Damon from hearing her thoughts, something that she immediately rectified. Damon pouted at her like he was a toddler she’d just taken candy from.

Bonnie started putting things away so she could think about what she wanted to say before she said it. “I’m fine, mostly. A little creeped out but okay otherwise. They just followed me home, close enough that I could hear them.” 

Fruit got put into the basket on the counter to ripen, meat got left out because she felt like cooking early. She was stalling and Damon didn’t say anything, his emotions somewhere in the realm of ‘cautiously optimistic’ and ‘really fucking disbelieving’. 

It would have been cruel to keep him waiting forever so Bonnie just bit the bullet. “I can’t forgive you for what you did to Gail, or to everyone else that day.” There was a clatter from behind her as Damon collapsed to sit down at the table. He looked devastated and Bonnie felt her heart clench as she scrambled to get the rest of what she wanted to say out. “I can’t forgive you, but I don’t hate you. You made pancakes for me every morning, Damon.”

He didn’t look up at her when he mumbled “so?” like he really thought it meant nothing. 

“So it proves what I could already feel: you’re consumed with guilt about what you did that day. It’s why you thought this place was your personal hell. You made pancakes every morning because Gail craved them and you were punishing yourself, just like you kept that door closed because seeing the nursery every day would have broken you.”

Bonnie would have almost preferred that Damon kept looking at the mark he was gouging in the wood of the table because when he looked at her she could see the hope on his face even as she could feel his skepticism; he didn’t understand what she was trying to tell him.

“Damon, you’re not Silas. Sometimes you’re violent and cruel and too quick to act, but you’re not remorseless.” Damon scoffed then, like he disagreed. He could act tough all he wanted but Bonnie knew that he had feelings because she could _feel them_. If anything, Damon felt more than most people. “You kill people but you do it because you think it’s necessary, not because you love the feeling of someone’s blood on your hands.”

That was met with silence, which Bonnie had expected. Damon might be able to justify his actions to whoever asked but that didn’t mean that he’d ever really made peace with them himself. By no means was Bonnie absolving him of every awful thing he’d ever done, she just wanted him to know that she didn’t think he was a fundamentally horrible person.

The depth of feeling in Damon’s voice when he finally said “thank you, Bonnie,” was such that Bonnie couldn’t look at him for a moment. Once she had her own emotions - and facial expression - in order Bonnie turned her head to look at him and found his eyes on her already. They smiled at each other, just a small, private type of smile. The type of smile shared between two people who understood each other.

Bonnie kept on putting the groceries away - some things she created new spots for, because whatever system already existed in the kitchen was a broken one - until the only things left out were things she’d need for the stroganoff. Damon watched her with interest. When Bonnie looked at the nearest clock her eyebrows rose into her hairline. How was it two in the afternoon already? She’d been out for a while but she hadn’t thought it was that long.

It would be just their luck that time behaved differently in this place.

Two in the afternoon or not, Bonnie was going to start cooking dinner. Damon stood and made to join her at the counter but Bonnie found herself telling him no. “It’s okay, I’ve got this. I’ll make dinner and then we can watch a movie or something?”

Damon’s face had fallen but at the mention of watching a movie - and maybe the implication that she wanted to spend more time together - Bonnie felt his mood lift slightly. One of the strongest emotions she could feel from him was still confusion. Even though Bonnie had told him that she didn’t think he was evil like Silas, he still didn’t believe her. He still couldn’t understand why she was back and didn’t despise him.

It was true - Bonnie really didn’t despise him, not even a little - but she also felt like she needed room to breathe. It was one thing to make the decision to stay with him, but it was a completely different thing to let him straight back into her space. Bonnie didn’t think she was ready to feel his hands on her again so soon; it was more than likely that she’d sleep in the other bedroom tonight, just to be safe.

Damon left the room to amuse himself elsewhere and Bonnie got started. Water was put on to boil for the pasta and Bonnie went hunting for an appropriate pan to fry the meat off in. She listened to Damon with half an ear. It sounded like he was in the living room, and the clink of glass on wood told Bonnie that he was drinking. She couldn’t really blame him. 

Once the pasta was cooked Bonnie put it off to the side and focused on making sure that the pieces of steak were properly browned before they got set aside as well. Bonnie threw the onion and garlic in to sauté a little; she sliced the mushrooms while she waited and then they got tossed in too. 

Bonnie half expected the smell to entice Damon back into the kitchen but it seemed like he’d taken her ‘no’ literally and was leaving her alone. She appreciated it for as long as it took her to realize that she had forgotten to get white wine at the grocery store and the only wine she could see on the bar cart was red. She sighed. So much for keeping her distance from him. “Damon?”

Like he was just waiting for her to summon him Damon appeared in the doorway. “Yeah?”

Bonnie added the spices to the onion, garlic and mushrooms and made sure they were stirred through before she answered him. “Do we have white wine? Doesn’t really matter what type, I don’t think.”

Damon’s brow furrowed like he was thinking about it, then he disappeared to presumably go hunting for some. Bonnie turned back to the pan and kept stirring as she considered her use of the word ‘we’ in that sentence, and she only jumped a little when Damon reappeared at her elbow, brandishing a bottle like an over exuberant waiter in a restaurant. “Does this please the lady?”

It was honestly such a relief to hear him say something stupid and harmless after hours of him trailing his misery and guilt around like Eeyore that Bonnie barked out a laugh, the type of noise Jeremy had always made fun of her for. Damon only looked fond, which was worse. 

A quick glance at the label had Bonnie taking the bottle from him, adding what she hoped was about half a cup to what she had in the pan. The smell made her pull a face but after a few stirs things started to come together to form a sauce. “Yeah, thanks.”

Damon hopped onto the counter behind her and Bonnie didn’t have it in her to send him out of the kitchen again, so she just kept cooking. Beef broth got mixed with flour and some Worcestershire sauce and things were really starting to smell good in here. Sauce mixed together, Bonnie added it to the pan and left it to simmer as she opened the drawer next to Damon’s legs to get the cutlery to set the table.

Privately - where he couldn’t hear it - Bonnie let herself think that maybe it _was_ just a little bit nice to be near him again.

Bonnie headed for the table. They’d been eating without placemats but surely there were some somewhere. She started opening and closing drawers and cupboards, pushing things aside as she looked. She heard Damon hop off of the counter and assumed he was ‘sneakily’ trying the sauce. Bonnie didn’t mind; he could tell her if it needed more salt, considering she hadn’t actually tried it yet. 

“Bonnie?” 

Where were the fucking placemats? Did the Salvatores really live like heathens? Bonnie just wanted to have a nice dinner. Oh! There they were. Bonnie grabbed out the placements and was just standing up straight - why were they so far back in the cupboard, anyway? - before she registered that Damon had said anything at all. 

When she turned to look at him, his lips were vaguely blue. “What the fuck -”

“Don’t freak out!” Damon’s voice was loud and a little raspy and Bonnie was finding it hard to do what he said when he looked about three shades paler than he had five minutes ago.

“What the _fuck_ , Damon!” He was still holding the spoon she’d been using to stir everything, though his grip on it looked weak, and he was leaning against the counter like it was the only thing holding him up. Bonnie felt frozen in place even as her heart hammered in her chest; she could hear a strange rattling sound that she realized after a moment was Damon breathing. 

“Bonnie, does this -” another rattling breath, “have mushrooms in it?”

Before she could answer - it would have been something to the effect of _of course it has mushrooms in it, didn’t you_ see them _in the sauce?_ \- Damon slid to the floor with a heavy and final sounding thud. Bonnie threw the damned placemats and whooshed around the counter to find him lying very still, lips even bluer than she’d first thought. 

In her panic she was able to determine that not only were his eyes closed, he wasn’t breathing. That took a moment for her to confirm, considering he wasn’t big on breathing at the best of times and she could barely think through the haze of confusion and fear that was clouding her vision.

Had she just killed Damon Salvatore with _produce_? Bonnie fucking hated this place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are happening!!!
> 
> I'd love to know what you think of this chapter... I appreciate every single kudos and comment so much! As always, feel free to follow me and/or come and chat on tumblr, I'm [@bonbennett](http://bonbennett.tumblr.com/)!


	10. please don't go (I'll eat you whole)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What if Damon didn’t wake up at all? What if she had just killed him for good?
> 
> Bonnie wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him."
> 
> The aftermath of the Mushroom Incident isn't exactly what Bonnie might have expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is... well. Hold onto your hats, folks!
> 
> Title is from 'Breezeblocks' by alt-J.

**bonnie -**

Bonnie had no idea what to do.

Shock had quite literally rooted her in place and in some distant part of her mind she acknowledged that she hadn’t breathed for longer than she should feel comfortable with; she made herself suck in a deep breath. The ticking of the Grandfather clock in the hallway reminded her that time was passing at all, as did the smell of slowly burning onions and garlic and _fucking mushroom._ See if Bonnie ever ate it again, stupid fucking vegetable. Was mushroom even a vegetable? Bonnie was too annoyed to care. 

Annoyance wasn’t the only emotion she was feeling, though. Really she felt wracked by fear and panic. Damon hadn’t moved an inch from where he had fallen and it looked like he was getting paler by the minute. Bonnie tried to remember how long it usually took for a vampire to come back from being quote-unquote killed and couldn’t. Was a neck snap different to death by allergy? Bonnie guessed she would find out.

The longer she spent looking at Damon the more distraught she felt. Weren’t they already dead, technically? The Other Side had exploded before they’d landed here and surely that qualified as a proper life-ending event. What if Damon didn’t wake up at all? What if she had just killed him for good?

Bonnie wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him. 

When the smell of congealed wine and beef broth got too much for her nose Bonnie finally moved to turn the gas off. So much for dinner and a heartfelt I-don’t-hate-you talk. 

Landing knee-first on flagstone didn’t do great things for Bonnie but it was easy to ignore the pain when shaking Damon was more important. “Damon? Damon, you fucking idiot, wake up. Mushrooms, honestly? _That’s_ what kills you?”

There was no response from the vampire in question and Bonnie felt a little like she wanted to scream, or cry. Both would have felt appropriate right then even though Bonnie never would have imagined a week ago that Damon dying would cause her this much agony. Slightly too much force shaking him meant that Damon’s head was lolling from side to side in a way that was actually pretty sickening to watch. 

Wait. Would she be able to pick him up?

It had been hours - and _hours_ \- and Bonnie could feel that their connection hadn’t broken, not even with his death. A quick test confirmed that her fangs still dropped and stayed down and an idea was forming in her head that Bonnie knew Damon wouldn’t like at all. Bonnie honestly didn’t give a fuck, as long as he woke up. 

Bonnie crouched over Damon properly and maneuvered them both so that she had one arm underneath his shoulders and the other underneath his knees. The position was awkward - why was he so much taller than her, for fuck’s sake - but Bonnie was determined to make it work. His skin was ashen and his lips were still blue and she didn’t have anything to lose. 

God, the Other Side was gone. How would he find his body? 

Instead of letting herself fall into _that_ particular panic spiral, Bonnie heaved in another deep breath. “Sorry, D.” It was almost comically easy to pick him up, even if she did have to scramble not to knock his head into anything as she arranged him as comfortably as she could in her arms. 

When she realized that the spell he had used to protect the house had probably dispersed with his death - however impermanent it may prove to be - she almost dropped Damon right back onto the floor. _Fuck._

Why couldn’t anything ever go their way?

It meant that Bonnie whooshed up to his bedroom instead of taking her time walking. They could well and truly be on borrowed time if the intruder realized that there was nothing stopping them from entering the house. Just because they hadn’t attacked Bonnie when she was by herself didn’t mean that they’d miss two easy opportunities in one day.

There was no way to put Damon down delicately, Bonnie found, considering he wasn’t exactly concentrating on keeping his head upright. He wasn’t in a position to complain either so Bonnie dumped him on his bed and then whooshed back downstairs to make sure that all of the doors and windows were locked. It wouldn’t stop anyone from breaking in, but at least Bonnie would hear the _breaking_ part of it.

The sight of the unfinished stroganoff was so rage-inducing that Bonnie threw it out.

Being downstairs by herself with no spell to protect her was disconcerting enough that Bonnie whooshed herself back to Damon’s side as soon as she was sure that the house was as secure as it could possibly be until he woke up again. And he _was_ going to wake up again. 

Bonnie didn’t know what she would do if he didn’t. Just a few hours ago she had been so horrified by what Damon had done in 1994 that she couldn’t stand the sight of him and now here she was, crawling onto the bed behind him to arrange them so that he was leaning back against her, more than a little desperate to see him open his eyes again.

Vampire perks were weird. If Bonnie didn’t have them she wouldn’t have been able to pick Damon up, let alone carry him anywhere. Death should have made Damon almost intolerably heavy but Bonnie didn’t feel like he was crushing her at all. The sensation of his skin against hers was strange, though; she had just been getting used to the surprising warmth of him and now he felt cold. Dead.

If it weren’t for the situation their positions would be comfortable. Bonnie was sitting with her back against the headboard with Damon facing forward in between her legs, his head to one side so that it could rest on her shoulder. Something possessed her to wrap her arms around his torso in the strangest version of a hug she had ever experienced. 

Every breath he _didn’t_ take made Bonnie’s own breaths quicken with panic.

It was almost worse, to not really know how much time had passed. Shouldn’t he have woken up by now? She should have asked him how long it had taken him to wake up after Stefan had snapped his neck but it hadn’t seemed especially relevant at the time. It was hard to say with a glance at Damon’s face if his lips looked any less blue or if that was just Bonnie being hopeful.

Bonnie was ripped from her thoughts by the sound of glass crashing onto the floor downstairs. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

There was no way that she was going to leave Damon to investigate. With every cell in her body - witch and vampire alike - Bonnie wished harder than she ever had that whoever was downstairs didn’t come looking for them. Just because she had the tools to protect them didn’t mean that Bonnie actually wanted to have to use them. 

Whoever it was, Bonnie could hear their heartbeat where she hadn’t been able to when they were stalking her through the town. It was a mixed blessing because it meant it was possible to track their progress around the house; the living room, where they must have broken in, was first, followed in short order by the kitchen. Bonnie stopped breathing to hear them better. 

Whoever it was lingered in the kitchen for a minute, maybe two. Bonnie thought she heard the sound of crunching food - what the fuck? - and paper tearing but she wasn’t certain. One thing she was uncomfortably certain about was that the next place the intruder went for was the stairs. Bonnie tightened her grip on Damon and closed her eyes, fucking terrified and furious with herself for it.

In no time at all they were on the second floor. Every measured step up the hallway felt like an icepick in Bonnie’s ears. Was she about to die with her arms wrapped around a dead Salvatore brother? If anyone ever found out it would make for a pretty interesting obituary. 

Bonnie found herself curling protectively over Damon, the side of her face pressed into the _badwrong_ coolness of his temple. She was breathing again, heavily enough for the pair of them, but when the intruder stopped directly outside of Damon’s door Bonnie sucked in a breath and held it, straining her ears.

Bonnie begged the Universe to protect her and Damon; for the intruder not put their hand on the door handle. Her heartbeat slowed so much that it was easy to hear the steadiness of the intruder's own heartbeat. They weren’t afraid at all; if anything, they were unnervingly calm. Bonnie didn’t know how much time passed before she heard the sound unique to paper sliding across wood, followed by footsteps retreating back down the hallway.

Bonnie didn’t open her eyes or start breathing again until she heard the front door be unlocked, open and then close behind the intruder. Had they really just left? Bonnie hoped she was that lucky. Creamy white against dark wood drew her gaze to the piece of paper that was resting on the floor two inches inside of Damon’s door. A note?

She had been holding Damon so tightly that her arms ached when she released him to jump off of the bed and lunge for it. When Bonnie picked it up she saw straight away that it was the edge of one of the pages from the grimoire. Bonnie could make out the letters _Asc_. The script to the side of that was neat, the message to the point if not a little deranged: 

_Come find me when you’re ready to blow this popsicle stand xoxo_

Bonnie blinked at that for a second, then for a minute after that. What the fuck? Who exactly were they trapped here with? Then Bonnie started to panic for an entirely new reason. The intruder had gone into the kitchen and ripped this paper out of the grimoire. Had they _taken_ the grimoire? Bonnie knew that she had been right about them being a witch. What if they had taken Bonnie’s only way of getting them out of this place? 

Bonnie’s hand was on the door handle to go and find out when she heard the sheets shift behind her.

Whiplash was a real possibility, Bonnie turned her head so quickly to look. She didn’t care because Damon had _moved_. Bonnie whooshed back to the bed and perched beside him. She could see that color was coming back to his face so that he looked alive-pale instead of dead-pale. Bonnie knew that she was grinning stupidly at him by the time that Damon’s eyes actually blinked open - still that same piercing shade of blue - but she couldn’t stop herself. 

Damon groaned and the sound was like music to her ears because he was alive, she wasn’t alone, he was _alive._

Though he didn’t really look happy about it. His hands came up to rub at his face, like he’d been sleeping instead of dead for the last maybe fifteen minutes, and Bonnie didn’t know what to say. Damon saved her the trouble by chuckling, dry and short, before he said: “You know, Bon-Bon, if you wanted to kill me, I would have given you a free pass with a stake.”

Bonnie didn’t bother to contain her laughter then, and gave into what she wanted to do, which was to collapse forward and hug Damon with her face pressed against his chest. Bonnie could feel warmth radiating off of him and she was so relieved she almost ached with it. 

One of Damon’s hands came up to cup the back of her neck and that was even better - that _felt_ even better - especially when one of his thumbs rubbed absently at her pulse point.

There was a ripple of confusion over their connection before Damon asked, “how did you get me upstairs?” Bonnie pursed her lips together so she didn’t snort and like Damon could feel her mirth he groaned again, this time loud and long. “You carried me, didn’t you? Like a sack of potatoes? I hate that, Bonnie.”

“It was a bridal carry, actually.” Damon laughed and squeezed her neck once and it felt like a playful reprimand. Bonnie grinned because he couldn’t see it. Then reality came crashing back down on her and she pulled away to stare at Damon, wide-eyed. “The spell broke.”

That got Damon properly awake, or properly alive, because he sat up fully against the headboard and tilted his head like he was listening for the intruder; like he was ready to protect her if he needed to. He still looked like a stiff breeze could knock him on his ass, but Bonnie appreciated the effort all the same. When Damon didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary he looked at Bonnie properly again, confusion clear on his face. “What? When?”

“Pretty much as soon as you died. A spell usually only lasts as long as a witch is alive and I guess the magic didn’t care that you were only dead temporarily?”

Bonnie didn’t mention that she’d been worried that Damon was _permanently_ dead because even thinking about it now made her heart race with panic. She couldn’t stop looking at him - was unconsciously pushing into the heat of his thigh - because she was scared that she would blink and he’d be pale again, lips blue against his skin. The thought of moving away from him was unbearable.

While Damon digested that, Bonnie figured she may as well get the more important information out too. “They came into the house, Damon,” and the words got his attention laser focused on her, his eyes darting over her like she was hiding an injury. Bonnie put her hands in the air. “No, I’m fine! I stayed in here with you. They left a note.”

Bonnie had almost forgotten that herself, even though it was still clutched in her hand. She passed it to him and had the unique experience of feeling his incredulity a microsecond before it appeared on his face. Damon looked between her and the note like maybe he thought she was making it up. “‘Blow this popsicle stand’? Are we dealing with a psychotic teenager?”

It was too soon to rule anything out so Bonnie shrugged. “I think they took the grimoire with them too.” Damon swore and tipped his head back. Bonnie found herself looking at his neck and the movement in his jugular caused by his pulse. Bonnie might not really be a vampire - at least not in the traditional sense - but she still had the urge to feed. Mostly she ignored it.

Speaking of feeding… If they wanted to get the spell back up and running, Damon would need to feed from her again. Damon’s mouth began to move with the words of the spell that he’d used to protect the house and Bonnie panicked thinking that she had stopped shielding her thoughts from him, but she hadn’t. Somehow, she and Damon were just on the same wavelength more often than they weren’t.

It was foolish to hope but Bonnie did it anyway, only to be disappointed when her ears refused to pop. Damon didn’t have his magic, or at least not magic of the useful witchy variety.

It felt like Bonnie had a decision to make. 

Yesterday she had bitten her own wrist and fed Damon via long-cold coffee, mostly because she wasn’t ready to feel his mouth on her again. Even though she knew it was the option she should probably go for now, Bonnie didn’t want to. It was funny, in a way. All she had wanted this morning was to get away from Damon and in such a short amount of time her feelings, her _instincts_ , had really done a full 180.

“We need to get the spell back up, D.”

While she’d been silently deliberating Damon had been sitting very still with his head tipped back, eyes closed. If she didn’t know better, Bonnie would have said he was sleeping. Something told her that in reality, he just felt too weak to do anything else. While killing a vampire wasn’t forever unless you ripped their heart out - or tore their head off - it did take something out of them. They needed to recharge. 

Damon didn’t open his eyes, only _mhm’d_ and reached blindly for her wrist. Bonnie tried not to be surprised when his hand landed right and true on his first try, his thumb rubbing warmly against her pulse. Considering he wasn’t looking at her, Bonnie let herself stare at the contrast of their skin tones. He was still paler than he should be and it was freaking her out a little. 

Bonnie wasn’t sitting in the right position to feed him from her wrist because she had to rise up slightly when Damon started to draw her arm towards his mouth. It meant that she was up on her knees, leaning over Damon. Bonnie’s mouth developed a mind of its own. “Will it be enough?”

Ice blue eyes met her own and Bonnie froze. She could feel Damon’s confusion though it was muffled slightly, like he wasn’t even strong enough to feel things normally yet. Damon answered her question with one of his own. “What do you mean?”

His thumb rubbed against her pulse again and Bonnie wondered if he even knew he was doing it. It gave her goosebumps anyway, which Damon could of course feel. His pupils widened slightly and Bonnie had a feeling she was going to regret what she said next, one way or another. “Feeding from my wrist. Will it be enough?”

To put the spell back up, it probably would be. But Bonnie doubted it would be enough to get Damon feeling strong and like himself again. Wasn’t it smarter, to feed him from her carotid? There would be more blood for him to drink in a shorter period of time. Not to mention that she trusted him not to kill her despite him trying to rip her throat out before, and what he had told her that morning.

The longer that Damon stared at her the warmer Bonnie felt. At her question his emotions had turned to static in her head, like he didn't know what to feel. Bonnie could relate.

“Maybe not, no,” but Damon’s hand stayed where it was and Bonnie didn’t really know what she should do here. Everything that came to mind felt too bold, too explicit, for what was actually going on. That feeling didn’t go away when Damon suddenly let go of her wrist to grab her by the hips, his hands big and warm. “Don’t punch me.”

And then Damon lifted Bonnie up and into his lap.

It was either catch herself with her hands on Damon’s shoulders or end up with his face pressed into her chest. Once Bonnie knew she wasn’t going to knee him anywhere delicate, she went for the option that felt marginally safer and settled herself on his lap with her hands on his shoulders while trying not to blush fiercely or make an incriminating noise.

_Punching Damon_ wasn’t exactly her first thought. No, her first thought was of the last time she’d sat on Jeremy’s lap like this, for reasons not even remotely related to life-or-death blood drinking. There had been far fewer clothes involved.

Damon smirked at her like he knew, and thought differently of her for it. _Admired_ her for it. That’s what he got for insisting that she was a prude. It had never really been true but it had always seemed like too much effort to correct him. Bonnie just wished that Damon was coming to that realization when she wasn’t sitting in his fucking lap.

Something told her that the easiest way to divert his attention would be to tilt her head slightly to the side so that her hair moved away from her neck and she was right and immediately hated it, because Damon’s pupils got even wider and his hands - had they always been so big? - tightened on her hips, his thumbs nudging up underneath her shirt to rest on bare skin.

Why had this felt like a good idea? Bonnie couldn’t remember.

Like Damon could sense her hesitation his grip on her loosened and his eyes on her softened. “No judgement if you want to back out, Bon-Bon. Your wrist can get the job done.”

The truth was that the way Damon had been looking at her wasn’t making her want to do this less, it was making her want to do it _more_. Bonnie didn’t really understand why just yet, but she was willing to trust herself. All she could do was hope that it didn’t come back to bite her on the ass later. 

So Bonnie let go of his shoulders to slide her arms down his back, bringing them closer together. Damon’s hands shifted slightly and his thumbs rubbed against her stomach and Bonnie knew then that there was no way that Damon was aware of what he was doing because he would never be touching her so intimately otherwise.

How blown were her pupils? Bonnie didn’t want to think about it. At least, if anything, she and Damon were as bad as each other. 

“It’s for the spell, right?” Her voice was annoyingly breathy. Bonnie could have left it at that, with it’s implied _it’s for the greater good_. Damon would have taken it at face value and started feeding from her, probably. That’s where Bonnie _should_ have left it. Something made her say, “and you need it,” anyway. 

If Damon’s emotions had been dull static before, now they were too loud and confusing for Bonnie to even begin to decipher. Was this him blocking her from his thoughts? If it was, it was effective. When Damon took a hand off of her hip Bonnie thought she was about to get unceremoniously dumped off of his lap, the whole thing ruined by a little too much emotional honesty.

Instead, Damon cupped the side of her neck with his thumb underneath her jaw and Bonnie couldn’t stop herself from closing her eyes just like she couldn’t stop herself from shifting in his lap. This shouldn’t be turning her on. Damon was barely touching her - Bonnie’s position in his lap notwithstanding - and this was for survival reasons but it was like her body didn’t care. 

It was more intense, to feel Damon moving without actually watching him do it. 

Damon sat up straighter and Bonnie wound her arms tighter around his neck in response, so that their chests were pressed together. Damon’s hips shifted beneath hers with the movement and Bonnie was breathing a little quicker now. When he spoke, he was close enough that Bonnie could feel his breath on her neck and the barest brush of his mouth against her skin. “You’re sure?”

This was a catastrophically bad idea. Bonnie nodded.

Damon tilted her head further to the side and Bonnie shivered, unconsciously pulling them even closer together when she squeezed her thighs around his waist. The hand Damon had on her hip - his thumb was still on her stomach and now it felt like his pinky had slipped beneath the waistband of her denim shorts - tightened and god, was he going to make her _ask_ him to bite down?

Bonnie was about to break and do just that when she felt Damon graze his fangs against her neck, followed immediately by the faintest pressure as he sunk them into her skin. All at once there were so many sensations to focus on that Bonnie didn’t even know where to start.

There was no pain. 

It might have been better if there was because instead Bonnie felt hyper aware of Damon’s mouth on her skin. What had she been thinking? Her neck was so much more sensitive than her wrist. The gentle sucking she could feel as he drank from her should have been off putting but it wasn’t. With her eyes closed it was almost too much so Bonnie opened them only for her vision to immediately unfocus, not because Damon had taken too much but because it felt too _good_.

Damon’s hand on her hip shifted entirely underneath her shirt to squeeze the side of her waist and Bonnie rocked down against him hard before she could stop herself, her mental defenses collapsing just enough for an errant thought of _oh, FUCK_ to get through their connection. A wave of molten lust that could have only come from Damon hit her at almost the same time.

If nothing else it was nice to know that Damon was feeling similarly affected by what was happening. Now that she’d literally felt his arousal broadcast directly into her head it was impossible to deny what she could feel beneath her: Damon was hard, holding himself tense like he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from rocking up against her otherwise. 

Bonnie should be putting an end to this because it had already gone too far - _beyond_ too far - but it was like she couldn’t communicate the order to her body. How could she deny herself something that felt so good? Bonnie felt like she deserved it, after the last few months she’d had. Hell, after the last few _years_.

Bonnie didn’t know when she’d shifted her arms so that she could get a hand in Damon’s hair but when she noticed she was holding the silky strands she went with it, tugging just a little as she leant into the hand Damon still had on her neck. She felt wanton but she didn’t care; she didn’t care what she looked like right now, as long as it meant that Damon kept his mouth on her and his fangs in her neck.

They stayed like that, Damon drinking from her and squeezing her waist while Bonnie exhibited a Herculean amount of effort trying not to grind down against the hardness of him, until she started to feel woozy. 

Like Damon could tell - and Bonnie wouldn’t be surprised if he could - he took his fangs out of her neck. Neither of them moved for one second, two, and then Bonnie almost bit through her lower lip at the feeling of Damon’s tongue dragging along the bite marks. It made no difference to her brain that he was only doing it to encourage the wounds to heal. 

With that taken care of Bonnie should move off of Damon’s lap. As it was Bonnie was so turned on she felt shaky with it, the throbbing between her legs so insistent she could barely think about anything else. Would there be any way to subtly change out of her soaked underwear, in a house with Damon and his vampire hearing? Could he _smell her?_

Bonnie wanted to smack herself for the answering pulse of wetness the thought caused. 

Damon finally let go of her neck and Bonnie welcomed the distraction it brought, rolling her shoulders and tilting her head from side to side as much as she could when she was still unwilling to let go of Damon. He shifted so that his forehead was resting on her shoulder and after a moment Bonnie’s ears popped: the spell was back up. Then Damon pulled back to look at her.

The color had returned to his face, which was a good thing. Bonnie didn’t really know what to make of the razor thin circle of bright blue around the otherwise inky-dark of his eyes, beyond acknowledging that for some reason he looked as turned on as she felt. Damon’s mouth was rosy pink and there wasn’t any blood for her to see but Bonnie was finding it hard to look away from his lips all the same. 

Bonnie jumped when Damon touched her cheek. She was so focused on his face that she hadn’t even noticed him moving and now his thumb was at the corner of her mouth. What was he doing?

“I always thought you would make a good vampire,” Damon’s voice was low, quiet. Just for her. 

Bonnie didn’t understand why Damon had decided that was relevant right now until his thumb shifted _inside_ of her open mouth to rub along one of her fangs. Bonnie hadn’t even noticed them dropping but she felt the touch right down to her toes. Damon’s eyes were on his thumb and Bonnie felt like she was going to shake apart, or explode; everywhere he was touching her felt hyper-sensitive.

Without shifting his eyes from her mouth Damon said, very quietly, “you could, if you wanted,” like it was a full sentence that Bonnie would understand. And maybe she would have, if she had been capable of thinking past how overwhelmingly turned on she still felt.

“I could what?” Damon had to move his thumb out of her mouth or risk her biting it off. He looked like he was debating with himself, but Bonnie couldn’t tell what he was feeling. Damon had definitely decided to shield his emotions from her at some point since he’d come back from the dead. 

Bonnie’s curiosity was piqued when Damon looked away from her, eyes shifting around the room like he was nervous, or embarrassed. When his eyes settled back on her it was like he’d found his resolve and his voice was steady when he said, “you could feed on me.” 

Bonnie’s curiosity turned to confusion. Hadn’t she already done that? More than once, even. Damon must have seen the furrow between her brows because he huffed an exasperated - or impatient? - sigh. “No, I mean -” and then he tilted his head slightly to the left, baring his neck to her. _For_ her.

_Oh._ “Oh. Has anyone ever… have you -” _Has Elena done it before_ was what Bonnie wanted to ask. She had always just assumed that blood sharing was something vampire couples did, but considering how intimate it felt Bonnie was starting to think that maybe she had been wrong. Bonnie knew what she wanted Damon’s answer to be and she hated herself for it, for the flash of possessiveness that came with it.

Everything that they had done so far had objectively been a bad idea, but Bonnie felt like this would be an _awful_ idea. Her feelings about Damon and _for_ Damon were getting confusing; they were strong and overwhelming, compared to what Bonnie was used to. Bonnie had loved Jeremy, she knew that in her heart, but what she had felt for him was never as intense as this. 

Feeding from Damon, from his neck? Putting her mouth on him like that? Bonnie wasn’t sure that she’d survive it.

Damon’s hair tickled against her arms as he shook his head. It took Bonnie a second to realize why he’d done it at all before she realized that it was in answer to the question that she hadn’t been brave enough to fully voice: it was Damon telling her that no one had ever fed from his neck before, not even Elena.

A feeling of intense _want_ filled Bonnie, and it belonged only to her. It wasn’t necessarily just lust for him, though she still felt that. It was like some weird, long extinct part of her brain had woken up; Damon was offering to give her something that he hadn’t offered anyone else before, and Bonnie wanted it. He was watching her with a strange expression on his face.

When Damon’s hand appeared beside her face again Bonnie wasn’t surprised, though this time he didn’t go for her mouth. Instead his thumb rubbed underneath her left eye and Bonnie was confused until he looked at her and willed the veins underneath his own eyes to appear. Was her face doing that right now? Giving away her hunger for him?

Bonnie felt frozen. The smart thing to do would be to say no. To get off of Damon’s lap and put some distance between them, especially considering the simmering lust she could still feel just underneath the surface of her skin; a gentle shift on Damon’s lap told her that he was still half hard, at least. 

It was impossible to keep her eyes from drifting to his neck, though. Looking at his jumping pulse focused her attention because now Bonnie could _hear it_ and there was that hunger for blood she had noticed earlier. 

There was nothing inherently sexual about it, right? Bonnie would be able to control herself and Damon loved Elena. There was nothing to worry about.

Just because Bonnie knew where she stood didn’t mean she was just going to go for broke though. She made herself look at Damon’s face. He was still as annoyingly good looking as he had been at the start of this madness. “Are you sure?” 

Damon smiled at her. It was genuine, too, not one of his coy smirks. “I wouldn’t have offered otherwise, Bon.”

_Bon_. Was he really shortening the nickname he’d already given her? Bonnie couldn’t even play at being mad because the casual affection - the casual intimacy of it - made her feel pleasantly anchored to her own body in a weird way. It was just nice. 

Bonnie nodded but didn’t move. Adrenaline was coursing through her yet it felt like it would be too much to just lean forward and sink her fangs into Damon’s neck, permission or not. Damon’s hand shifted so that it was cupping the back of her neck and he gently tugged her forward and oh, this really _was_ an awful idea. It meant that she was even more pressed against him than she had been already and Bonnie’s skin was tingling at every point of contact. 

Damon tilted his neck for her again and Bonnie just let her instincts take over as she supported his head with her hand and bit down. Rich warmth filled her mouth and Bonnie moaned as she swallowed, Damon’s hand on her waist tightening as he tensed beneath her. Fuck, was she hurting him?

Bonnie pulled back to look at his face. 

Damon’s eyes met hers and he looked dazed, and then he looked annoyed. He took both of his hands off of her and Bonnie panicked and was about to scramble off of his lap and tell him that they’d never mention this again when he put his hands on her legs instead. Nowhere scandalous either, just above her knees. He dug in with his thumbs and Bonnie tried not to gasp. “Why’d you stop?”

_Because this is insane and we shouldn’t be doing this._

That’s what Bonnie should have said. What she actually did was roll her eyes and lean back in to bite down on his neck a second time, letting herself give in to the sensation properly. It wasn’t just _one_ sensation, though. It was Damon’s blood in her mouth and his hands on her legs, so big and grounding. It was Damon hard beneath her, and Bonnie rapidly losing the battle of stopping herself from grinding against him.

Everything sort of happened all at once, after that.

Damon’s hands dragged higher up on her legs and he tilted his neck further to the side, like he wanted Bonnie even closer to him. Damon’s thumbs were practically underneath her shorts now and Bonnie felt like she was going insane, the feeling was so close to where she wanted it. Wanted _him._ There was no point denying that her lust was focused on one person in particular and not just the situation in general.

Bonnie’s eyes slid closed and every shift of Damon’s hips beneath hers felt like it was lighting her on fire. She didn’t know whether she hated the barrier of their clothes between them or loved it because the seam of her shorts was hitting her clit just right through her soaked underwear, the slight pain of it sending her higher and higher. Bonnie gave up on trying to stop herself from grinding against Damon and chased that feeling like her life depended on it.

Damon choked out a noise - had he been holding himself back this whole time? - and his grip on her thighs tightened as he tugged her right up against the length of his dick and just like that Bonnie was done, hurtling towards the most intense orgasm she’d ever had with no real idea of how she’d gotten there so quickly. Bonnie pulled her fangs from Damon’s neck so she could breathe through it, moaning as quietly as she could.

“Fuck, _Damon,_ ” slipped out before she could stop it and she wanted to die - why was she saying _his name_ right now - but then Bonnie felt his dick jump underneath her as he presumably came in his jeans like the teenager he really wasn’t, his grip on her thighs hard enough to bruise as his hips jerked. Bonnie moaned louder because she couldn’t fucking help it.

Once the aftershocks had finally stopped and Bonnie could feel her extremities again, she slumped against Damon like her strings had been cut. 

There was also a possibility that she was doing her best attempt at hiding from the world against his neck. Damon released her thighs and Bonnie huffed a laugh when he shifted his hands to her hips, flexing his fingers like he was trying to get blood flowing back into them. 

If there was ever a time for Damon to dump her on the bed and make himself scarce, it was now.

Instead of waiting for him to do it - somehow, it would have still felt a rejection even after everything that had just happened - Bonnie lifted herself up and flopped back on the bed to stare at the ceiling. She felt warm all over and sensitive in all of the right places and Damon had never even _touched her_. It had taken her something like three weeks to teach Jeremy how to make her come at all. No wonder Elena had wanted to talk about her sex life all the time. 

God, _Elena._ Bonnie was the worst best friend in the whole fucking world. How had she let herself do that? It didn’t matter that an orgasm had never been her end goal. Bonnie pressed her hands hard into her eyes and groaned. She had known it was a bad idea to let Damon feed from her neck and she’d let him do it anyway, had _encouraged him_ to do it anyway. Had fed from Damon herself when things had already escalated too far.

Shame crashed over her and Bonnie wanted the earth to open up and swallow her whole. 

Damon squeezed her ankle and Bonnie almost threw herself off of the bed, she flinched so hard. She moved her hands to look at him and he didn’t let go, only shook her leg. “Hey, no. You don’t get to beat yourself up right now.”

“Damon, we -” 

“Yes, _we_. Not just you. We both fucked up, Bonnie.” 

It made it easier to swallow, knowing that Damon didn’t feel good about what they’d done either. If he’d been a smug asshole about it she probably would have snapped his neck, now that she knew it wouldn’t kill him permanently. She nodded, the slightest motion, and Damon squeezed her ankle once before he let go.

The bite mark on his neck was still bleeding sluggishly and Bonnie couldn’t help looking at it. Did wounds caused by a vampire take longer to heal? Damon licked his thumb and Bonnie blushed and then got annoyed with herself for blushing when Damon rubbed his own saliva against the wounds, which started to disappear before her eyes. If only they could erase what they’d done so easily.

Bonnie sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed to stand up shakily. Jesus. She didn’t want to know what expression Damon was wearing right now, watching the state she was in. The state that he was directly responsible for putting her in. Bonnie stared at the wall. “I’m going to… go and shower.”

“You do that.”

Then Bonnie went and hid in the bathroom, like a mature adult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't physically read over this chapter one more time so here I am, throwing it out into the open like a live grenade. 
> 
> So, uh, let me know what you think?! Kudos and comments are majorly appreciated, as always!


	11. wishing things away is not effective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonnie mulls over what happened with Damon, and then she has an interesting trip to Dreamland... with a surprise guest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from 'uh oh' by jenny holzer
> 
> I've created a twitter so that I can post fic updates and maybe even some little snippets, if that's something y'all would be into! You can follow me over there [@bonbennetts](https://twitter.com/bonbennetts) and on tumblr [@bonbennett](https://bonbennett.tumblr.com/).

**bonnie -**

It would have been obvious to anyone that Bonnie was doing her level best to hide from Damon, so she figured she may as well commit to it and actually have a shower. It wasn’t like Bonnie couldn’t use one either, because she felt sticky in places she’d really rather not and it was more than a little distracting.

It didn’t sound like Damon had moved from the bed and Bonnie tried to ignore that, turning the shower tap until water started to pour out as hot as it could go. Let it be punishment for how majorly she’d just fucked up. 

How could she do that to Elena? Bonnie covered her face and screamed silently into her palms, the water muffling any sound that Damon might have heard. When Bonnie looked at herself in the mirror it was like she didn’t recognize the person looking back at her. How could she have changed so much in such a short period of time? It was a blessing when steam began to fill the room because Bonnie couldn’t stand the sight of herself right then.

Stripping off her clothes brought with it another wash of shame. The state of her underwear was so embarrassing that they would probably benefit from being burnt instead of washed but Bonnie tossed them in the laundry basket anyway. She could sort them out later, once she had a clearer head and a bit of distance from what had happened.

Then her eyes caught on the hand-shaped bruises on her upper thighs. Bonnie had known that Damon’s grip on her had been tight - _perfect_ \- but it was another thing entirely to see it like this, finger marks scattered across the span of her legs. Her inner thighs. Warmth started to pool in her belly again and Bonnie swore, uncaring if Damon heard her.

Bonnie stepped into the shower and flinched when the water first touched her skin because it was scalding, but it was what she deserved and her body was adjusting to it quickly enough. Then she heard pipes clattering from somewhere else in the house. Bonnie froze in place thinking the water raining down on her was about to turn frigid but it didn’t, just stayed the same soul-cleansing temperature she’d set it at. Then she remembered that she was staying in the Salvatore _Boarding House_. Of course the showers ran independently of each other.

It was hard not to think about the fact that she and Damon were naked at the same time.

No matter how ashamed she felt, Bonnie couldn’t deny that what had happened not ten minutes ago had been one of the hottest things she’d ever experienced. Her clit was still aching and as ridiculous as it was Bonnie had to actively concentrate on keeping her shower perfunctory and her hands mostly above her waist, and her eyes off of the marks that Damon had left behind. Bonnie could still taste Damon’s blood in her mouth and it felt erotic, visceral. 

If Damon hadn’t come in his pants right alongside her, the embarrassment would have killed her. As fucked up as it was Bonnie was relieved that she wasn’t the only one affected, wasn’t the only one who felt turned up to twelve by the entire thing. Bonnie couldn’t put a label on what had happened between them but one thing she _did_ know was that it hadn’t been one-sided; there was _something_ there.

Damon’s thoughts were still a confusing buzz in her head and she wished that she had an inkling of what he was feeling. Bonnie guessed from what he’d said that he was experiencing the same regret she was - it made her like him more, annoyingly - but she wondered if he, like her, couldn’t help but enjoy what had happened despite the fucking awful circumstances. 

It was impossible for Bonnie not to appreciate the intimacy and closeness of it, and the interconnectedness that she felt with Damon despite never having even kissed him.

Residual stickiness handled, Bonnie turned the taps off and stood there, dripping all over the floor. She felt like she was at war with herself. Bonnie was disgusted that she could have done this to Elena, who loved Damon more than anything. Disgusted with herself for barely thinking of Elena at all. But she had thought of Elena, hadn’t she? When she was perversely and possessively pleased that Damon hadn’t let Elena feed from his neck. That it was something Damon was offering Bonnie; something that would belong to her alone.

Bonnie had no idea how to reconcile that within herself so she didn’t try.

The events of the last two days meant that she knew better than to walk out into the bedroom without stretching her hearing to figure out where Damon was in the house first. She could still hear water falling in a bathroom elsewhere so Bonnie dried herself off and walked sedately through Damon’s room and into the one next door, when she remembered that was where her bag was. Wearing Damon’s clothes was definitely out of the question.

The room was dark around her and Bonnie wondered again if time was passing strangely in this place. If it was there was nothing she could do about it, so she grabbed out a soft t-shirt of her mom’s and a pair of pyjama shorts and got dressed. Even if she had no intention of sleeping tonight she still wanted to be comfortable. 

Bonnie found herself wondering where she and Damon could go from here. Was there anywhere _to go_? A part of her felt like things had changed too much.

Would they be able to go backwards to the level of banter that Bonnie was just starting to think of as normal now that they knew what the other person sounded like when they came? Thinking of the noise that Damon hadn’t been able to hold in made Bonnie feel warm all over again. Was there any chance they could go back to being ‘just friends’ after something like that?

Only time would tell, Bonnie figured. She padded barefoot out into the hallway and down the stairs. It felt like the shadows were jumping out at her so she lit lamps as she went through each room. Bonnie’s mind was so occupied with Damon and what had happened that she only remembered that the intruder had broken into the house at all when she stepped on the glass that had fallen on the living room floor. “Mother _fucker_!” 

The instinct to hop around was overwhelming but Bonnie made herself balance against the nearest couch, wincing at the blood she was dripping on the floor. Hands grasped her by her elbows and Bonnie yelped as she was lifted clear off of the ground and deposited on the couch she’d been leaning against. Somehow she knew that it was Damon without having to look, which meant that she didn’t worry she was about to be violently murdered. 

The man in question was crouched in front of Bonnie with her injured foot cradled in the warmth of his hands. Damon’s hair was damp and he was shirtless, pyjama pants slung low on his hips like he’d been in the middle of getting dressed. He looked like a _GQ_ model.

When Damon’s thumb rubbed against the arch of her foot Bonnie kicked out and Damon laughed, a short exhalation of sound. “Careful Bon, you’re already bleeding everywhere,” and then he made an assessing noise as he looked at her foot for a moment. “And you’re not healing. Good to know.”

Damon whooshed from the room.

When he came back a handful of seconds later he was holding a bag. Bonnie recognized it as the one he’d taken with him to the hospital on his ill-fated blood run, though it wasn’t empty like she would have expected it to be. He opened it to reveal a truly ridiculous amount of medical supplies and Bonnie wanted to laugh when she realized that he was going to patch her up the good old fashioned way instead of just feeding her his blood. It would have felt too soon, probably.

Bonnie saw something in the bag that did catch her eye though. “Damon, is that an EpiPen?”

Would she have been able to save him, if she had known that was there? Why hadn’t he _said_ anything about the bag and the portable hospital it contained when he first got back? Granted, he’d been a little occupied at the time trying not to tear her throat out. 

“Hmm?” He was rifling through the bag, presumably looking for bandages. When he saw what she was talking about he shook his head. “Oh, yeah. Wouldn’t have made a difference, don’t worry.”

Bonnie frowned in confusion and mild embarrassment that Damon had guessed at where her thoughts had gone so easily. That was literally what an EpiPen was for, wasn’t it? “Why wouldn’t it? Aren’t they supposed to stop allergic reactions, or something?” 

“They are. Doesn’t work on vampires, though. When I was alive my allergy to mushrooms was really mild; if I ate one it would upset my stomach and maybe give me a rash. But when I turned, the reaction became way worse. Kills me every time.” Damon stopped to concentrate on what he was doing, which was quickly yanking out the shard of glass that had lodged itself in the sole of her foot. Bonnie swore loudly and he grinned like he was having a great time as he pressed something against the wound to staunch the bleeding.

The veins that usually appeared underneath Damon’s eyes when he was hungry were absent despite the blood everywhere and Bonnie felt weirdly pleased by the implication that feeding from her had sated him. _In more ways than one_ , her brain unhelpfully reminded her. 

Once he was satisfied that she wasn’t going to immediately bleed through any bandage he applied Damon started to carefully wrap her foot, eyes intent on his work. It meant Bonnie could just watch him, annoyed anew about how handsome he was. Inky dark hair and eyes that blue were a pretty lethal combination. It was a lot easier to ignore it and hate him - or at least intensely dislike him - when she hadn’t known just how kind and affectionate he could be. Now Bonnie felt like she spent too much of the day noticing it.

Damon secured the bandage and leaned back on his heels. “That should do. Who knows, maybe you’ll heal quicker? You’re more of a vampire than you are a witch at this point.”

Bonnie glared at him but she knew that he was right. It was weird that she hadn’t healed straight away but maybe her vampire perks just meant that she’d heal quicker than a normal human but not at a ridiculously accelerated rate like Damon would have. It was still a stupid idea to immediately try to stand up but Bonnie did it anyway, only to immediately fall back on her ass as soon as her foot made contact with the ground. “Okay, ow.”

Instead of stopping her Damon just watched her make a fool of herself and he looked torn between grinning and rolling his eyes. “Yes, ow, you dumbass!”

If Bonnie had been able to carry Damon upstairs he would definitely be able to do the same for her but she was _not_ going to ask him. It wasn’t like she felt tired anyway, with all the adrenaline from the day still coursing through her. It was bad enough that she’d forgotten that the intruder had broken into the house at all, which reminded her… “Can you see if they took the grimoire?”

Damon’s face fell and he whooshed from the room; Bonnie heard him swear in the kitchen a moment later and she groaned, tipping her head back against the couch as she closed her eyes. Of course it was gone. This asshole really wanted their attention, and for them to come and play whatever stupid game they’d thought up. The worst part was that they had no choice, if they wanted to get back to their normal lives. It could wait until the morning, though.

Like Damon had the same idea he wheeled the ancient TV set over so it was in front of the couch and went to clean up the rest of the glass. Smart, considering she would probably step in it again the next time she got distracted thinking about Damon. Once he’d mopped up the blood with a towel he went downstairs to the basement and came back with a piece of wood big enough to cover the hole in the window, nailing it in place as best he could.

Bonnie wanted to smile when she saw Damon’s mouth moving with the words of the spell again, like he wanted to make sure that they’d be protected.

With that immediate issue taken care of Damon rifled through the stack of VHS tapes that Bonnie had found _Jurassic Park_ in, making a triumphant noise when he obviously found whatever he was looking for. He inserted the disc into the player and whooshed from the room, the sound of drawers opening and closing in his room reaching Bonnie’s ears moments later. 

The movie began to play and Bonnie laughed. He’d really picked _The Bodyguard_? Bonnie relaxed into the couch. Just that one stupid move - and the way that he had looked after her, bandaging her foot - had resettled them, Bonnie felt like. By some unspoken agreement it had been decided that they weren’t going to mention the whole unintentional-mutual-orgasms thing and Bonnie was glad for it, happy to just settle back into the rhythm of before.

Damon reappeared next to her, this time properly dressed, and he flopped on the couch a safe distance away. Bonnie tried and mostly failed not to miss the closeness.

The movie was a great distraction. Damon wasn’t a silent watcher, instead keeping up a running commentary on what was happening that Bonnie couldn’t help but laugh at even as she mock shushed him. In no time at all the movie was finished and Damon went into the kitchen to reemerge with popcorn a few minutes later, the buttery smell making Bonnie’s stomach growl. 

It would have been impossible not to notice when Damon sat down closer to her this time, with only the bowl of popcorn separating them. Would it really be so bad, to go back to the casual way they had been touching each other before? It had been intimate, sure, and nothing like what Bonnie was used to, but there was nothing inherently sexual about it. 

Bonnie could imagine telling Elena about it and not being judged, at least, and the same definitely couldn’t be said for grinding on Damon’s clothed dick while feeding on him until they both came. 

The Grandfather clock chimed and Bonnie’s eyebrows rose when it let them know it was three in the morning. The movie hadn’t been _that_ long and it would have been around ten o’clock when they sat on the couch, if Bonnie had to guess. She looked at Damon. “Do you think time goes faster here?”

Damon threw a popcorn kernel into his mouth and made a considering noise around it as he chewed. “I hadn’t thought about it, but now that you mention it… did you notice the eclipse today? I can’t remember seeing it.” God, she hadn’t. It had been a long day though; maybe it had just happened when she had been in the grocery store? She shook her head against the couch and Damon nodded, like he was just going to accept that time and space weren’t acting right. 

This place just was what it was, whether they liked it or not. 

Bonnie still didn’t feel tired and she looked towards the VHS tapes. When a tentative attempt to put her foot flat on the ground made her grimace, Bonnie looked at Damon and pouted. He snorted and rolled his eyes, but he didn’t get up either. Bonnie was about to complain when a look of concentration came over his face and she stopped herself, wondering what his deal was.

Seconds later the stack of tapes shook ominously before it collapsed, one flying into the air and heading straight for them. Bonnie squeaked and ducked but it changed direction, waiting in front of the player as _The Bodyguard_ ejected itself. Was Damon really doing all of this right now, without moving or saying a word? Without saying a _spell_?

The disc put itself in the player while Bonnie watched on in disbelief and laughter bubbled out of her. “Holy shit, D, that’s actually pretty fucking awesome!” And when she looked at Damon he was looking at her already, a huge grin plastered on his face. 

“Right? I feel stronger.” 

The words landed like a lead balloon between them and it was harder to maintain eye contact after that because they both knew she was the reason he felt that way. Bonnie felt like they were both reliving how exactly Damon had fed from her, pressed as close together as they could be with clothes still separating them. 

The movie started with a blare of noise and it was like the Universe was calling an emotional ceasefire and Bonnie laughed again - only sounding slightly forced - when she realized that Damon had queued up _Home Alone_. She hadn’t seen the movie in years so watching it now would probably hold her attention and stop her from thinking so intently about Damon.

They only bumped hands reaching for the popcorn twice which Bonnie thought was a pretty solid achievement, even if they did both react like they’d been burnt each time.

Bonnie would have sworn that sleep would be impossible for her after everything that had happened that day but between one blink and the next she must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she was aware of was that she was standing in the middle of her dorm room at Whitmore. The fireplace was on and Bonnie could feel the heat radiating off of it and hear the noise of cars on the street below. 

If this was a dream, it was the most realistic one that she had ever experienced. Actually, it sort of felt like the dream that Damon had - 

“Bonnie?”

Bonnie stopped breathing. That wasn’t Damon. No, that was the rich and velvety British voice that she’d caught snatches of in her dreams the last few nights. Bonnie slowly turned around to look only to immediately slap a hand over her eyes, a parody of the same move that Damon had pulled on her. 

It was Enzo saying her name alright, and he was _very_ naked. “Oh, my god!”

Enzo laughed and Bonnie could feel it in her bones. “I could say the same thing, love. You’re supposed to be dead.”

Well, there was that.

Bonnie waved a hand through the air in front of her, unwilling to take her other hand off of her eyes. If there was a chance that all vampires were as hung as Enzo she was more than a little annoyed that Damon had kept his pants _on_ earlier, guilt and shame about the whole thing notwithstanding. “Not dead! Alive. Why are you naked in my dorm room?”

Even without looking Bonnie could tell that Enzo was much closer than he had been before - he’d been on her bed when she had first turned around, sprawled back on his elbows like he was putting himself on display, and wasn’t _that_ a sight she wasn’t going to forget in a hurry - and Bonnie jumped only to be steadied by a big hand on her hip. 

Enzo let go of her when it was clear she wasn’t going to fall on her ass. “I was naked in my own room, sound asleep, and then I was here and so were you. Love the shorts, by the way.”

That got Bonnie’s thoughts racing, though she steadfastly ignored the last part. If she had fallen asleep and ended up here, could she have dragged Enzo along with her? Was this a dream at all, or was it some in between space? Bonnie could feel the warmth that Enzo’s hand had left behind. She had read somewhere that you couldn’t actually feel things in dreams, which gave her theory some legs to stand on.

Bonnie dropped her hand from her eyes and got another eyeful; Enzo had made no move to cover himself, even though there was a perfectly good pillow nearby. She choked on her own spit and looked away as she tried to subtly cough. “Can you _please_ put on some pants?”

And just like that Enzo was wearing pants, of the soft grey sweatpant variety. He looked down at himself bemusedly. “Huh. You’ve got your magic back?”

God, she hoped so. It’d make this entire experience doubly worth it. Bonnie turned her head and saw a candle that Caroline had on her nightstand. “ _Incendia._ ” When nothing happened, Bonnie sighed. “I guess not. The rules must just be… different here.”

Enzo smirked at her and it made his dark eyes sparkle, or maybe that was just the reflection of the fire. He had moved away from her and was back on the bed in the same position he’d been in before, only now the fabric of the sweatpants she’d magicked onto him were pulling across his crotch and Bonnie was _staring_. 

When she flicked her eyes up over Enzo’s abs and his obnoxiously sculpted chest to finally land on his face, he looked like the cat that had caught the canary. “I didn’t know you liked me enough to invite me into a dream with you, Bonnie. And naked, no less!” Enzo held a hand to his chest like he was scandalized.

Bonnie’s face flamed. “Hey, I didn’t do this!” Or at least she didn’t think she’d done this? Bonnie had no way of knowing. She hadn’t been thinking of Enzo when she’d fallen asleep; she hadn’t even meant to fall asleep in the first place. “Has this happened to you before?”

Enzo shrugged and somehow managed to make it look like an elegant roll of his shoulders. “Not that I can remember,” then his smirk widened and Bonnie braced herself. “Maybe when two vampires like each other very much -”

“Oh, fuck off!” Bonnie ruined the impression that she was angry by laughing and Enzo grinned at her.

“- and they’re asleep at the same time, they can share dreams. Were you thinking about me, love?”

Bonnie definitely ignored _that_ because the rest of what Enzo had said made a certain sort of sense. Bonnie had always found Enzo intriguing for the same reasons that she had found Damon intriguing: they were magnetic people, charming and deadly and gorgeous. People that Bonnie always felt drawn to in one way or another. Maybe it wasn’t true that she hadn’t been thinking of Enzo, because she _had_ vaguely dreamt about him the last few nights. About his voice, anyway. 

Some part of her had been thinking about him.

Then Bonnie realized what Enzo had said: two _vampires_. A quick glance at his face told her that he was realizing the exact same thing. He stood up in a burst of supernatural speed, stopping inches in front of her with his hands on her shoulders. “Who turned you, Bonnie?” Then something else must have occurred to him. “Where are you, if you’re not dead?”

That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? She shrugged her shoulders, the movement making Enzo’s hands rise and fall. He didn’t let go of her and Bonnie could _feel it_. Definitely not a dream. “It’s… complicated. I’m with Damon.”

For some reason that made Enzo slump in what Bonnie was surprised to recognize as relief. Her surprise only lasted as long as it took her to remember that Enzo and Damon had spent years together being tortured by the Augustine freaks. How close were they, exactly? Pretty close, she guessed, because Bonnie could hear the hope in Enzo’s voice when he asked her, “Damon’s alive too?”

Something made her smile at him, her hands rising to cover his. “Yeah, he’s alive. I’ve… I’ve been feeding him.”

It felt revealing, to tell someone. Better that she got a trial run before she had to decide if she was going to tell Elena or not, once they got back to the real world. Enzo’s attention was on her again, not that it had ever really left her, confusion furrowing his brows. “And he turned you?”

Bonnie dropped his gaze. It was one thing to tell someone that she’d been feeding Damon, but it was completely different to consider telling someone that she was sort of a vampire after drinking Damon’s blood; that they had a connection linking them together. 

Enzo was practically a third party, though. It wouldn’t be the same as telling Elena, or Caroline. Bonnie was pretty certain that he wasn’t going to judge her. 

Bonnie opened her mouth to get the words out - _I drank from him too and now I have fangs, wanna see?_ \- when the corners of her vision started to go white. Or, it wasn’t her vision, it was her dorm room. It was almost like it was fading out around them. Enzo was looking around too so Bonnie knew it wasn’t just something that she could see, which was only vaguely reassuring. “What -”

“Bonnie -”

Her heart was pounding in her chest because she couldn’t feel Enzo’s hands on her anymore even though he hadn’t pulled away. What was happening? Then her heart started to pound for a different reason. If Enzo was right - if Enzo was _real_ \- and this was them sharing a dream and not just something her brain had cooked up after too stressful of a day, he would probably remember what she’d said when he woke up. The thought of him telling anyone that he’d seen her, or what she had said to him, was terrifying. 

“Enzo, don’t tell anyone,” and he was confused, gorgeous dark eyes boring into her own. “Please, don’t say anything -”

Just like when the Other Side had exploded the room around them filled with a light so blinding that Bonnie had to close her eyes against it, only vaguely aware of Enzo calling her name. Maybe her ears were ringing or maybe that was her imagination but it was disorienting all the same. Her concept of time was fuzzy but Bonnie guessed that it lasted for a minute before it suddenly stopped. 

It was difficult to convince herself that opening her eyes was a good idea and not a scary one. If she had just shared a dream with Enzo and it had ended, surely that wouldn’t have killed her? Enzo would have probably warned her, if that was the case. After a moment spent psyching herself up Bonnie quickly blinked open her eyes to find herself exactly where she had been: on the couch in the Salvatore Boarding House.

Only now it was morning, and she was horizontal with her head on a throw pillow and a blanket draped over her. Damon was nowhere to be seen. Bonnie panicked slightly, stretching her hearing to find him; she didn’t have to try very hard, because he knocked what sounded like a pan against the kitchen counter and swore quietly to himself like he was trying not to wake her up. 

Bonnie stood up and winced, expecting that her foot would hurt as soon as it hit the carpet beneath her but there wasn’t even a slight twinge of pain. She glanced down and saw that her foot was still bandaged up, so she hadn’t imagined stepping on the glass. Had it healed already? She could find out later. For now she padded towards the kitchen and stopped in the doorway.

Damon was standing over the stove with a dish towel thrown over his shoulder and something sizzling away in front of him. It was so domestic that it made Bonnie feel a little funny. “D?” He looked over at her and smiled, easy as anything. It really felt like they were back to normal and that funny feeling transformed itself into gratitude.

“Hey, you’re up. Foot’s okay?” Bonnie nodded, feeling impatient and not knowing why. “I’m making breakfast and you’re welcome, it’s not pancakes.” Damon tilted the pan towards her to reveal a huge omelet; it smelled really good and Bonnie’s stomach grumbled, which made Damon smile at her again.

In a sort of trance Bonnie moved into the room properly and started to set the table. Maybe she had imagined the whole thing with Enzo? Her dad had always told her that she had an over-active imagination, though that _had_ been when she first thought she was a witch and he didn’t want to hear a bar of it. 

Bonnie had gotten up at the right time because Damon was plating up already, bringing the food over to the table. When they sat down, she nudged her legs against Damon’s without thinking about it and felt her face flush. That probably wasn’t the best idea and Bonnie started to pull her legs away but then Damon’s legs parted to let hers between them. Bonnie only hesitated for a moment before nudging her legs between his and Damon’s knees squeezed hers once she was settled. 

Something in Bonnie relaxed and she smiled down at her food as she cut into it, muffling a noise around her first bite. Was there _cheese_ in this? Around her fork she mumbled, “Damon, this is delicious,” and he nodded at her around his own mouthful, obviously pleased with himself. They ate for a few minutes until Bonnie felt like she was going to burst with curiosity. “I, uh, had a dream about Enzo -”

“Should I be jealous?” Bonnie’s eyes darted up to his face - she’d been staring at her plate - to find that Damon was turning a disarming shade of red. He held her gaze for a moment before his embarrassment must have gotten the best of him. “Pretend I never said that.”

Bonnie snorted. “Will do. I had a dream about Enzo, but it felt weirdly real… I could feel it when he touched me.” Now it was Damon’s turn to snort and Bonnie laughed because okay, that sounded bad and she hadn’t even brought up the nudity. “It wasn’t a sex dream, you perv. We could actually talk to each other and I can remember all of it. Enzo seemed to think we were sharing the dream?”

Omelet dropped onto Damon’s plate with a _splat_ when his fork tilted in his lax grip. “Wait, so he was _actually_ there?” Bonnie did a weird combination of a nod and a shrug because she wasn’t really sure, hoping that Damon would have answers for her. Instead, he just looked more confused. “ _How?_ ”

With a sigh Bonnie shoved a bite of omelet into her mouth and let herself appreciate just how tasty it was. Damon really was a good cook, as long as it wasn’t pancakes he was making. How could someone do pancakes so badly? Not the point. “I don’t know. He thought it might have been because we were both asleep at the same time and uh, because…”

“Because?” Damon was staring at her, expectant.

God, this was embarrassing. “Well, I think his exact words were ‘when two vampires like each other very much’,” and Damon started to laugh, his shoulders shaking with it. Bonnie flung some of her omelet at him. “Oh, shut up. He didn’t know how it worked either!”

It took Damon a full minute to settle down, which just seemed excessive. If he didn’t have answers for her there really wasn’t much else that they could say about it. They each finished their omelets and were halfway through washing up when Damon spoke again. 

“Enzo… do you think he’ll tell anyone? That we’re here?”

Wherever _here_ was went unsaid. Bonnie finished drying and putting away the cutlery while she considered the best way to tell Damon that she’d asked Enzo not to say anything. It would have been easier to get the words out if Bonnie knew herself why she’d asked Enzo to do it. In the end Bonnie just went with the truth and hoped Damon wouldn’t hate her for it. “I asked him not to.”

Damon was silent for a long time and Bonnie hated that he was blocking his emotions from her. She was desperate to know if he was angry with her, or upset. If Bonnie hadn’t said anything Enzo probably would have told Stefan and Elena; they would have some hope to hold onto. Elena would know that Damon was trying to get back to her. _Jeremy_ would know that Bonnie was alive. 

Bonnie didn’t think that was _why_ she’d asked Enzo not to say anything, but what if it was? 

The sink gurgled as Damon took the plug out and Bonnie looked at his profile. He really looked like he was thinking hard and she waited him out. Eventually he spoke to his reflection in the window above the sink. “That’s good,” and Bonnie exhaled in relief. She hadn’t even noticed that she was holding her breath. “We don’t know how to get out of here yet, right?” Bonnie nodded when he looked at her for confirmation. “When we know we can get back to them for sure, Enzo can tell them.”

It sounded like Damon expected that Bonnie would be able to share a dream with Enzo again, like it hadn’t been a complete fluke in the first place. Bonnie was happy to let Damon think that because maybe she _would_ be able to see Enzo again and let him know how they were going; the thought made Bonnie feel strange though she had no idea why. 

Regardless, knowing that Damon didn’t hate her was a weight lifted off of her shoulders that Bonnie hadn’t even known was there.

Bonnie hopped up onto the counter behind her and crossed her legs to get at the bandage on her foot, unwinding it to reveal entirely unblemished skin that she poked at. _Huh_. That was fun. Damon watched her and also seemed pleased with the lack of an angry red gash on her foot. At least now they had some sort of time frame for her healing capabilities. It also meant that they could leave the house without her limping everywhere.

Like Damon had the same idea, he clapped his hands together. “You in the mood to go and find ourselves that unwanted houseguest and get the hell out of here, Bon-Bon?”

Bonnie grinned at him. “Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to meet the intruder! I can't wait to write this next chapter. 
> 
> Also, let's all pretend that DVDs replaced VHS three years earlier than they actually did; I was so focused on writing that I lived in a world where VHS didn't exist. Oops! 
> 
> EDIT: It was annoying me so much that I've gone back and edited the fic to include VHS tapes. The Salvatores are rich, but they're not THAT rich! If you read the version with the DVDs... that's a special gift, just for you 🤪
> 
> Thank YOU so much for reading, and leaving comments and kudos! It means the world to me 💗


	12. heavy dirty soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kai, ascendants and prison worlds, oh my!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from 'heavy dirty soul' by twenty one pilots

**bonnie -**

Something made Bonnie think that it wasn’t going to be as easy as just walking outside and immediately stumbling upon the intruder, finding out how to get home and… doing it. The day was young and she was determined to be optimistic though, so she and Damon went their separate ways to get ready.

When she was changing out of her pyjamas Bonnie let herself mourn that the bruises Damon had left on her thighs had already disappeared for a single moment… or perhaps slightly longer than that, considering Damon wasn’t there to watch her. Gliding her fingertips over where the marks had been made her break out in goosebumps just about everywhere and Bonnie made herself hurry up before Damon got impatient and came looking and found her touching herself, thoughts of him in her head.

They set out maybe ten minutes later and with any luck they’d be back before lunch with their maybe-hostage but hopefully willing-participant in tow. When they emerged from the forest and into the outskirts of town, Bonnie had a realization that literally stopped her in her tracks. Damon made it a few feet ahead of her before he stopped too, turning to look at her with an eyebrow raised. “What?”

“Have we really only been here for a week?” And Damon’s face did what Bonnie imagined hers was doing, which was a complicated emotional gymnastics routine of disbelief, denial, and then finally acceptance. Seven days and so much had happened. She had gained fangs, for one, and a weird connection with a vampire she had barely tolerated before they’d found themselves in this place. Damon had magic now. Not to mention what had happened between them the other night.

What would be next? Wings? If nothing else it would make for an interesting point of difference. 

A lack of anything to say in response meant that Damon just shrugged before he spun around and continued walking towards town. Bonnie followed him, trusting that he had some sort of plan for where they could start looking. That was her first mistake.

Bonnie hadn’t had lofty expectations for the time frame of finding their intruder, but this was getting ridiculous. Going on hour four of wandering through the streets of Mystic Falls, looking through each house they walked past, she was about ready to cry with frustration. Just because the intruder had left a slightly - very - deranged note didn’t necessarily mean they were super eager to be found, or that they were going to make it easy for them.

Bonnie couldn’t forget that the reason why Damon had to feed from her at all was because the blood bags at the hospital had been deliberately tampered with. That was definitely a point in the ‘the intruder might not be nice’ column. Not to mention the uncomfortably close stalking that Bonnie had to deal with yesterday.

“Can we go home now? I’m _bored_ , Bonnie. We can figure this out on our own!”

Bonnie was seriously considering stabbing Damon with a stick, or something. Not anything that would _maim_ _him_ per se, just something that would make him shut up for longer than two seconds. For the last hour he’d been doing his best to make her go nuts, dashing around looking in houses only to come back and tug lightly on her hair or the hem of the dress she’d thrown on before he ran off again. Bonnie had been swatting at him like he was a fly and trying not to blush every time his fingers grazed her thighs. 

“For fuck’s sake Damon! Stop it!” His laughter taunted her as he disappeared into another house and Bonnie huffed. They both knew her annoyance was only half genuine at best and Bonnie had to wonder if Damon was touching her so much on purpose. 

Was what happened the other night on his mind, too? She shook her head and made herself think of literally anything else; they had finding the intruder to worry about.

They were almost at the center of town now, the area that would have been the most heavily populated if there were actually people other than them here. Bonnie had been stretching her hearing since they’d set out, listening for the intruder’s heartbeat, but they were either shielding themselves like they had done while they stalked Bonnie or they were just nowhere to be found. 

Or, the intruder was watching them right now and playing with them. That felt equally likely.

Bonnie could see a huge building in the distance and once they got a little closer she realized that it was _Bell’s_. It was a bigger grocery store than she usually frequented and it was weird to see cars in the parking lot but none of the people that went with them; a week here and it still felt eerie and wrong. Damon was wandering around aimlessly so Bonnie took the initiative and headed for it. If nothing else they could always pick up some more food.

As she expected he would, Damon followed her. 

It would have been faster to search the town individually and just sing out over their connection if they stumbled across the intruder but neither Bonnie nor Damon had even brought it up when they’d left the house; it had been heavily implied that they were both happier to stay together. 

_Bell’s_ loomed closer and closer and Bonnie spotted something in the carpark that made her break out in a smile that almost felt too big for her face. “D?”

“Hmm?” Damon was bent over inspecting some flowers like he’d truly given up on looking properly at all, and Bonnie didn’t even care because if their experience here had been shitty so far, this would at least be a moment of levity for them both.

“What do you drive again?”

“The prettiest ‘69 baby blue Camaro your eyes ever did see…” Damon stopped inspecting the flowers - they were hyacinths, and they _were_ lovely - to look at her with a suspicious glint in his eyes. “Why?”

Instead of answering him Bonnie whooshed away, stopping beside his car to pose with a flourish, like a woman on a game show drawing a contestant’s attention to a prize. Bonnie could see Damon watching her in the distance and she didn’t bother raising her voice when she said, “did it look a little something like this?”

Damon was at her side in an instant, running reverential hands across the body of the car. Bonnie had been pretty sure it was his even from a distance but she was pleased that she’d been right. Damon looked like he was on the verge of happy tears and Bonnie squeaked when he picked her up with his hands around her waist to spin her in the air, the fabric of her dress flying up as she laughed. 

Bonnie didn’t mind if Damon was going to continue to radiate joy like a tiny sun.

Damon opened the door and threw himself onto the seat, flipping the visor down. The keys landed in his lap and Damon let out a delighted noise as he turned the car on, the roar of the engine deafening in the otherwise silence of the town. He looked up at Bonnie as he hit something that made the roof retract. “Get in here, Bon-Bon!”

So that was how Bonnie found herself sitting beside a 180-year-old vampire who was making car sounds with his mouth like he was racing in the Grand Prix and not sitting in a grocery store parking lot. Bonnie’s heart was doing something funny that she was determined to ignore and she hadn’t laughed this much since - well, since the night before, when Damon had been reciting the scripts of _The Bodyguard_ and _Home Alone_ in the most exaggerated voices that he could manage.

Bonnie wasn’t sure what _that_ meant.

She managed to avoid examining it any further because a sound started to filter into her ears over the noise and clatter of Damon’s theatrics. It sort of sounded like the song that an ice cream truck would play, but not quite. Bonnie tilted her head to listen, trying to tune Damon out. _No_. It was one of those kid’s rides, the ones that were usually in the middle of malls. Bonnie slapped Damon’s arm until he looked at her. 

“Damon, do you hear that?” Considering how exhilarated he was Bonnie thought she might have to force him to concentrate but he must have heard the seriousness in her voice or seen something on her face because he stopped singing a truly awful rendition of a _Led Zeppelin_ song to tilt his head to the side, listening. Bonnie could hear the noise still but it was faint so she leant across Damon’s lap to turn the ignition off. There was a moment of silence before - there. “That! That noise. Where is it coming from?”

Damon’s car was in the middle of the lot, surrounded by bigger models. It was impossible to see so Bonnie got out of the car and Damon scrambled out after her, heading towards the source of the sound. It didn’t take them long to find it because there was only one ride of it’s type out the front of _Bell’s_ and it was merrily playing it’s tune as it spun around. 

“You have to pay to use these, Damon,” and Bonnie looked around, like the intruder was going to jump out at them at any second. She couldn’t hear a heartbeat beyond the staggered beats of her’s and Damon’s but that didn’t mean that the intruder wasn’t nearby and watching them. 

They had stolen the grimoire and they were a witch, maybe a powerful one. They could do anything that they wanted to Bonnie and Damon without ever showing themselves.

Bonnie was about to say as much to Damon when he headed for the entrance of the store and she followed him, frantically whispering his name. The doors were electric so they didn’t make much noise when they opened for them but it still felt too loud. They could be walking into a trap right now and just because Damon was a vampire didn’t necessarily mean they would have the upper hand if they were attacked.

The grocery store had some eighties music playing and it was only mildly reassuring that there was still no new heartbeat for Bonnie to hear. The store was huge and it didn’t just sell food; Bonnie could smell alcohol, and the back of the store was obscured by a confusing display of what she thought might be patio furniture.

“Damon, slow down -”

 _Crunch_. 

Bonnie froze in place but Damon tilted his head towards the noise and walked straight for it like that wasn’t the stupidest thing he could have possibly done. When he disappeared from view, terror lanced through Bonnie and she threw her hands up in the air in a _why, god?_ type of way before she followed him. If he was about to get himself killed, she sure as hell wasn’t going to let him do it alone. 

The aisles seemed tall and foreboding around her as Bonnie headed into the belly of the store, towards the patio furniture that had loomed at her when she first walked in. _Crunch._ Was the intruder seriously fucking _eating_ right now? 

Bonnie turned a corner and almost slammed into Damon’s back, one of his hands reaching back to steady her. Without thinking she reached for it, holding his hand in both of her own. Bonnie didn’t feel quite so stupid for it when Damon squeezed her hands in response. She couldn’t hear his heartbeat anymore which could only mean that he had deliberately slowed it and Bonnie did the same with her own. 

_Crunch._ There was a crinkling sound, like the noise a chip packet would make. Bonnie remembered the weird eating noise she’d heard when the intruder broke into the house the second time. Damon started to move forward and Bonnie made to follow him but he let go of her to flap his hand insistently as he looked back over his shoulder.

 _No, stay there_. 

Hell of a time to open his head back up to her. At least Damon had finally gotten the hang of sending thoughts across their connection. Bonnie gritted her teeth but did as she was told, becoming aware of the strong smell of liquor to her right: they were in the booze aisle, which was strangely situated next to an obscene amount of outdoor umbrellas and deck chairs. The crunching noise was coming from that direction and Damon advanced forward slowly only to stop in his tracks once he’d gotten a little closer. 

“Damon, hi!” Bonnie frowned. Who the fuck was that? She didn’t recognize the voice at all. There were more crunching and crinkling noises and Damon didn’t say anything, just kept staring ahead of himself. “Oh, manners. How rude of me. I’m Kai!”

 _Kai?_ Definitely no one she’d ever met before and despite the familiarity in their voice when they’d addressed Damon, Bonnie knew that he had no idea who Kai was from the confusion pulsing her way over their connection.

This Kai kept chewing away at whatever it was that they were eating - it smelled awful, greasy and over-processed - and Bonnie didn’t feel like moving forward yet so she didn’t, content to let Damon handle this however he saw fit. Kai couldn’t see her and Bonnie wanted to keep it that way for the time being.

Eventually the crunching must have gotten on Damon’s nerves because he sighed heavily before asking, “are you gonna stop eating?” 

There was a tense pause and Bonnie held her breath. “Oh, you think this is annoying? Trust me, it’s nowhere near as annoying as the spell that’s on your house. How did you figure out how to activate it, anyway? You and Bonnie were the first interesting thing to happen to me in _years_ and then you just cut me off!”

That was a lot of information for her to process at once. There was the confirmation she’d wanted - and dreaded - that Kai was the person who’d been watching them; he’d stalked Bonnie, and broken into the house twice. The more important revelation was by far the second one: Kai thought the spell was built into the house, the type that only switched itself on in special circumstances. That could definitely work in their favor.

It meant that Kai didn’t know that Damon was part witch, capable of casting spells of his own. Bonnie could only hope that they’d really lucked out and he didn’t know about her vampire perks either. Suddenly things were looking up for them but Bonnie knew better than to trust it completely; Damon’s emotions were a mix of surprise and confusion in her head, like he was thinking the same thing.

Bonnie didn’t need to see Damon’s face to know he was wearing a smirk. “Sorry about the inconvenience. But I’m going to need you to tell me who the fuck you are, what the fuck you’re doing here, and how it relates to me, or I’m going to rip your throat out.”

There was the Damon that Bonnie had such fond memories of: fangs first, questions later. Or never, depending. When it came to getting answers Bonnie actually thought it had decent odds for achieving that; hopefully it would have Kai shaking in his proverbial boots.

But when Kai sighed heavily, he didn’t sound the least bit bothered or scared. That feeling that had told Bonnie not to get too comfortable with the upper hand worsened. “Your temper’s gonna get you in trouble, Damon. What would Bonnie think?” 

Damon’s emotions turned to static in her head again and Bonnie tried not to flinch. He’d been so easy to read seconds ago and now his thoughts were a scramble that Bonnie had no hope of untangling. Why would what Kai had said make him shield his thoughts from her again? When he spoke Damon didn’t sound any different which didn’t exactly tell Bonnie anything.

“I’m not too worried about my temper with her, Kai. You want to know why? I _like_ Bonnie. I don’t give a shit about you.” 

Bonnie jumped as Damon suddenly rushed forward, bodily picking Kai up to hold him above the ground. Bonnie ducked out of view just in time, listening to Kai as he rambled. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry. I’m just not used to this face-to-face stuff -” Bonnie frowned. There was something about his tone that wasn’t right, like he was just playing at being scared instead of actually experiencing the emotion. Damon dropped Kai on the floor. “- maybe you should have a drink? That usually calms you down, right?”

The sensation of her stomach dropping wasn’t a pleasant one. The spell that Damon had used to protect the house kept Kai out, but it didn’t stop him from _looking_ _in._ What exactly had he seen? Kai could have seen Damon doing magic and he could be toying with them right now. Should she reveal herself or wait to see how this panned out? Knowing that Damon could protect himself wasn’t making Bonnie feel any better. 

There was the clink of glass against glass as Damon must have picked up a bottle from the shelf, apparently happy to take Kai’s suggestion on board. As he twisted the cap open Kai kept talking. 

“You must want answers… do you want to know the real reason I’ve been following you?” Damon made an assenting noise as he took a swig, the sound of liquid sloshing around loud in the cavernous space. “Because I want to kill you.”

Wait, _what_? 

There was the horrific sound of bubbling flesh as Damon spat out whatever he had just drunk; bourbon if Bonnie had to guess. She could hear Kai laughing over the sound of Damon’s groans and it was making her skin crawl. 

“Vervain in your bourbon! Who didn’t see that one coming?”

Bonnie was trying not to shake where she stood as she listened to Damon coughing on the floor. She should be helping him but she was terrified, grossly aware that she didn’t have her magic and being half-vampire or _whatever_ might be their only trump card against Kai. Was now the time to play it? 

There was a wooden noise as Kai picked something up and now Bonnie was really starting to panic. “Why does a grocery store sell patio furniture? I guess people must buy it, but it’s just so weird, you know?” A pregnant pause. “I’m a little rusty on vampire mechanics -” the sound of wood cracking over Kai’s knee, “- but a stake to the heart should do, right?” 

At the sound of Damon’s scream of pain Bonnie covered her mouth with her hand to muffle her whimper, desperate for Kai not to hear her. Damon’s emotions hit her in a flood like he couldn’t concentrate on concealing them anymore and Bonnie was so relieved she could have collapsed with it because his fear and pain and _hatred_ meant that he wasn’t dead. 

Bonnie heard Damon stand up, wheezing as he slowly healed. “I’m going to rip your fucking head off.”

Bonnie could hear the grin in Kai’s voice. “No, you’re not.” The sound of breaking glass was deafening but not nearly so much as the sound of Damon’s yell of pain was. Bonnie could hear his flesh sizzling as it burned and her stomach rolled because she could _smell it_ too, even over the smell of alcohol soaking the linoleum _._ “I didn’t know which bottle you’d take, so I vervain’d them all.” 

If she waited any longer it might be too late and Bonnie forced herself to round the corner and lay eyes on Kai for the first time. He was young, which she had guessed at, and handsome. That was sort of ruined by the way he was currently holding a broken outdoor umbrella above Damon’s body on the floor, moments away from burying it in his chest. His eyes were dark brown and entirely devoid of emotion and feeling. He reminded her of a shark.

“Stay away from him.” Bonnie’s voice was actually steady and she tried to ignore Damon as he looked up at her, his face red and peeling like he had the worst case of sunburn ever. He was telling her to get the fuck out of there over their connection and Bonnie wasn’t going to do that, wasn’t going to leave him to die.

The thought didn’t even bear entertaining.

“Oh, you’re here!” Kai looked delighted to see her and Bonnie tried not to let on just how scared of him she was. He was an unknown entity and probably as crazy as a bag full of cats, if he’d been here alone for years like he had said. “I’ve been watching you fail at magic for the last week. You can’t even light a candle! It’s embarrassing. I’m embarrassed for you.”

Shame rolled through Bonnie in waves and she glanced down at Damon. His face was almost back to normal and he smiled at her, the tiniest little thing. It almost broke Bonnie in two. 

Kai lifted his makeshift stake in the air and started to bring it down and Bonnie could tell that it was going to land right where he wanted it, straight through Damon’s heart. Damon was making no move to save himself with his own magic and Bonnie had no fucking idea what to do. 

Out the corner of her eye Bonnie spotted a candle and she wanted to laugh. It was one of those big ones meant for the outdoors and Bonnie focused all of her attention on it. Every ounce of her will, every ounce of whatever it was she felt for Damon, she focused on that candle’s wick. Her heart was pounding in her throat and just when she thought nothing was going to happen, the wick caught with a burst of flame. 

Bonnie watched it, a small smile on her face. She hadn’t realized just how different she felt without her magic but it was obvious now that it was rushing back into her body all at once, where it belonged after so many months. It was enough to have Bonnie feeling like herself again. Her skin was almost buzzing from the sheer amount of power coursing through her.

_That’s my girl._

Damon’s voice might only be in her head and she didn’t look at him, but Bonnie could _feel_ the pride in it with Damon’s emotions still open to her. It warmed Bonnie through to her core. It wasn’t only pride that she could feel over their connection, though. There was also a healthy amount of admiration and relief, as well as something else Bonnie didn’t want to look at too closely while she had an audience.

Bonnie shifted her gaze from the flickering flame of the candle to look at Kai. He was standing with the umbrella suspended in mid-air and he finally looked scared, even if it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Oh shit.”

Bonnie glanced down at Damon to see he was looking at her with something like awe. She smiled at him, just the barest tilt of her mouth. “Run.” Part of Bonnie had worried that Damon wouldn’t listen but he did, whooshing away to presumably wait in one of the other aisles. Bonnie couldn’t hear his heartbeat but she knew in her gut that he hadn’t left her to fight by herself.

Minutes ago the thought of being alone with Kai had terrified her but now Bonnie felt powerful, and she felt _angry_. The smell of bourbon on the floor was burning her nostrils and she had an idea. Bonnie really hoped that it was going to work: “ _Incendia_.”

A circle of fire surrounded Kai and he dropped the umbrella, hands outstretched towards her like he was trying to soothe her, or like he was trying to reason with someone who he had just realized could kill him. “Okay! Okay, okay, fuck, uh -”

The heat from the flames was a welcome warmth against Bonnie’s legs and to see Kai backtracking so quickly made her smile, a kind of pettiness coursing through her. “Giving up so soon? I’m _embarrassed_ for you.”

Before Kai could respond there was a crash as Damon hit him across the back of the head, appropriately with the broken umbrella that Kai had been about to skewer him with. Kai's eyes fluttered as he crashed into a stack of outdoor chairs and Damon didn’t even watch, his eyes trained on Bonnie. “I take back everything I’ve ever said about you being annoying. I hadn’t met him yet.”

Bonnie grinned at him. Damon waved a hand and the flames disappeared like they’d never been there at all, only the smell of burning alcohol lingering in the air to prove it had happened. The buzzing feeling underneath her skin hadn’t gone away; Bonnie felt like electricity was flowing through her. 

It felt _right_ , to have her magic back and to be a vampire at the same time, just like it felt right that Damon was a vampire with magic too. They were basically abominations of nature and Bonnie couldn’t be happier about it.

Bonnie watched as Damon bent down to pick Kai up, haphazardly throwing him over his shoulder. The faint smell of blood in her nose looked to be coming from where Damon had clobbered Kai over the head and Bonnie didn’t ever care. Good, let Kai be in pain for what he’d been about to do. As far as Bonnie was concerned, he deserved it. Damon also picked up the half-eaten bag of what she could now see were pork rinds from where they’d fallen on the floor.

“You’re not planning on eating those, are you?”

Damon grimaced like she was asking him if he spent his spare time torturing kittens for fun. “God, no. They’re for dramatic effect. You’ll see.” Bonnie rolled her eyes but followed him outside happily enough. The sun was warm enough to bake under and she was glad for the light fabric of her dress against her legs. Bonnie was doubly grateful that they wouldn’t have to walk all of the way back to the Boarding House now that they had found Damon’s car.

Just as Damon dumped Kai across the back seats - Bonnie was honestly surprised that Damon didn’t just throw Kai in the trunk instead - the sky dimmed dramatically, almost to full darkness. There was no build up at all and Damon and Bonnie both looked around in confusion. Bonnie tilted her head up to the sky just in time to see the moon gliding across the sun; she had to shield her eyes so she didn’t accidentally blind herself when the sun appeared again.

If that was the eclipse, it had barely lasted ten seconds. No wonder they had spent the last few days missing it entirely. Maybe Kai would know more about that? They could ask him when they got back. Bonnie had lots of questions and she was looking forward to actually getting some answers for once. 

Kai’s note said to find him when they wanted to go home. Though Bonnie didn’t know what would change for her, and for Damon, once they got back to the Mystic Falls that they were used to, she was more than ready to find out.

\--

The mood when they arrived back at the house was somewhat jubilant and it was only half ruined by Damon failing to make it through the front door, walking into an invisible wall. Or, his foot made it across the threshold but as soon as any part of Kai neared the entrance Damon found himself stuck in magical glue. 

“What the fuck?” Bonnie knew what the problem was almost straight away and the annoyed frustration on Damon’s face as he tried and failed to get through the door time and time again made her laugh so loud that he looked at her like she’d lost her mind. “Care to share with the class, Bon?”

How could she possibly tell Damon that he was _too good_ at magic? Damon had told the house to protect them and keep Kai out and it was determined to follow that order to the letter. Bonnie caught her breath and fanned her face; could too much joy make you hot? “You need to remove the spell.”

Damon looked heavenward and started muttering to himself about how bullshit magic was, how technical, but the next time he tried to step through and into the house he made it through the doorway with no issue. So did Kai, but not without casualties: Damon shifted at the last moment so that Kai’s head knocked against the door frame with a resounding thud. Bonnie snorted and followed them both inside.

Bonnie felt like she was floating on air now that her magic was back. Life had sucked without it, but she hadn’t noticed before just how flat and useless she felt without her power coursing through her body. It was like she had been operating as a shadow of herself for almost four months and she was finally back to normal. 

It was funny, to see her happiness also reflected in Damon. He couldn’t stop smiling at her, which would have been nicer if he hadn’t been strapping Kai to a chair in the living room with duct tape at the same time. It hampered the effect, somewhat. He must have hit Kai pretty fucking good because he was still knocked out, chin on his chest as Damon moved him around. 

Kai was weird, and definitely more than a little unhinged, but Bonnie didn’t think he was that good of an actor. 

It couldn’t have been later than one thirty in the afternoon but the light in the room felt more like the sun was most of the way through setting. The more Bonnie noticed how weirdly time passed in this place the more uncomfortable it made her. 

Damon put the pork rinds on the mantle of the fireplace and started poking at the flames with the poker and Bonnie left him to it so she could make herself a sandwich. Using her magic for the first time in months had tired her out somewhat, but it was the happiest she’d ever been preparing food for herself. Bonnie ate in the kitchen, staring out the window. Her eyes struggled to adjust to just how quickly the light was dimming and by the time she’d taken her last bite, it was nighttime. Fucking strange.

As Bonnie made her way back to Damon and Kai, their sort-of-hostage was only just groaning and lifting his head. His neck cracked loudly as he tilted his head from side to side and Bonnie watched his face. The first thing that Bonnie noticed was that he looked _furious_. Fair, considering the situation he’d just found himself in. Bonnie still found it unsettling.

Damon turned to look at Kai, poker swinging menacingly at his side. “Oh good, you’re awake! We can start the Q and A portion of the evening.”

The comment made Kai realize that it was dark around them and Bonnie watched as confusion washed over his expression. He was probably wondering if he’d really been out for that long, or if time wasn’t behaving. Or was this something that he was used to if he’d been here for years? Bonnie guessed they were about to find out.

There was a rustle of plastic as Damon shook what was in his other hand in Kai’s direction. The action made the smell of the pork rinds waft towards Bonnie and she scrunched up her nose. How could Kai stomach them? They were foul. 

His voice entirely devoid of emotion, Kai spoke. “Let me guess: if I answer right, I get a pork rind. If I answer wrong, I get the poker.”

Bonnie leant against a low shelf as Damon theatrically hid the pork rinds behind his back; the dramatic effect he had mentioned earlier. He was such a dork. “No, these are for me! You just get the poker.” And he rested the end of it on Kai’s chest, the fabric smoking a little because the metal was still hot. Kai didn’t flinch.

“You don’t need that, Damon. We’re on the same team.”

When Bonnie scoffed in disbelief Kai and Damon both looked over at her, Damon shifting to accommodate her at his side when she got up and moved closer. “Really? Because I feel like it’s bad manners to try and kill your teammates.”

Kai looked away from her and sucked on his teeth. “Well, the important thing is that you have your magic back. My plan worked.” Bonnie felt her own confusion being magnified by Damon’s. What was Kai on about? He looked between them and started to grin. “What, you didn’t think I was _actually_ going to kill Damon? That doesn’t make any sense! I’m not gonna kill one third of our population… I’m not a monster.”

In that moment Bonnie realized she could hear Kai’s heartbeat, like he’d forgotten to shield it when he’d regained consciousness. It didn’t skip like he was lying and it should have been a foolproof test, but Bonnie didn’t believe it.

_Why don’t I believe this guy?_

Hearing Damon’s voice in her head made Bonnie look at him and she cocked an eyebrow, their hips bumping as she shifted her feet. She dropped her mental walls and sent back _I don’t either._

“God, look at you two,” Kai’s voice - his interruption, though he didn’t know it - made Bonnie flinch. “See, Damon, that right there is why I knew Bonnie would show up. She _likes_ you. I knew she’d be able to access her magic if she just had the right motivation.”

Was she blushing or was that just the heat of the fire? Bonnie was glad that neither Kai nor Damon would be able to tell the difference; there was no subtle way to put the wall in her head back up so Damon couldn’t read her mind but Bonnie did it anyway and immediately felt his hurt, though he didn’t block her from his emotions in turn. Bonnie kept her gaze on Kai because anything else would have felt like too much exposure.

Bonnie was more than eager to jump on any potential topic change. “So you did all of that… the kids ride, the vervain in the bourbon, the umbrella stake, just so that I could get my magic back?”

A slow smile unraveled itself on Kai’s face and Bonnie got goosebumps for all the wrong reasons. “Of course I did. Because your magic is the key to getting us the hell out of here.”

What? Bonnie had known that magic was probably the surest way out of here if it was really her Grams who had landed them in this mess, but Bonnie’s magic _specifically_? And Kai had said ‘us’. Bonnie had only known the guy for an hour and already she didn’t want to go anywhere with him, ever, let alone back to the real world.

Damon’s shock matched her own. If Kai was serious, and Bonnie had her magic back… they could be going home much sooner than they might have thought. Bonnie should feel joy but all she felt was skepticism. It almost seemed too easy.

Kai watched them as they processed that little tidbit of information, a look of pure delight on his face. Bonnie found him so creepy. How did he get here, anyway? Damon had thought this was his hell but that couldn’t be true, if this random guy who Damon had never met before had been here longer - _far_ longer - than they had. Bonnie frowned at Kai. “You said you’ve been here for years. How long exactly is _years_?”

Bonnie thought it was a pretty straight-forward question, which didn’t explain why Kai talked endlessly about nothing and everything at the same time until the room started to lighten around them. Damon threatened to stab him repeatedly to no avail and Bonnie actually nodded off for an hour or so only to wake up when Damon shouted, “How the fuck does any of this relate to how we get out of this twilight zone!”

Bonnie sat up and wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth and the crusty sleep from her eyes. At least Kai was still alive: Damon really was a changed person. Bonnie knew she hadn’t made a noise to indicate she was awake and paying attention but Kai’s eyes found her all the same and she froze halfway to sitting up.

“Oh, Bon-Bon -” 

“Don’t fucking call her that.” Bonnie and Kai both looked over at Damon where he was sprawled in a chair, mostly empty glass of bourbon in one hand. Damon’s emotions went fuzzy in her head and stayed that way, and Bonnie’s heart clenched for reasons she didn’t want to examine after only being awake for a minute tops. He was glaring daggers at Kai, who only hooted at him.

“Okay, touchy! _Bonnie_. Could you get me a few things?” Bonnie rolled her eyes. What was she, a housekeeper? Kai was watching her impatiently though and honestly at this point Bonnie figured she didn’t have anything to lose if it meant they could put this place - and Kai - in the rearview.

“Fine, what?”

Kai grinned. “You might want to write this down. I need a can opener, a shower drain, a grinding wheel, some jam - plum, if you’ve got it - a pocket knife, volume oh of the encyclopedia, a nail, and last but not least: a black marker!”

Bonnie blinked at Kai, waiting for him to say _gotcha!_ When a few seconds had passed she was forced to acknowledge that he was serious and she heaved herself off of the couch with a sigh to go upstairs and get changed out of her clothes; she smelled like smoke after spending the night next to the fire. Hopefully she wouldn’t regret leaving Damon alone with Kai.

The first step was just creaking underneath her foot - it felt safer not to whoosh around the house like she’d gotten used to doing - when Kai asked Damon, his voice low and conspirational, “you two are fucking, right?” Bonnie felt entirely justified in kicking her toe on the stairs and almost biting through her tongue because _what the fuck_.

The embarrassment that flowed through Bonnie - what exactly had Kai seen between them since they’d met him that made him jump to _that_ conclusion - was overshadowed by her relief that if he was asking at all he hadn’t _actually_ seen anything. Bonnie could only assume he was being honest and he hadn’t stuck around after he’d broken in to watch her and Damon. 

Had that even counted as fucking? Thinking about that too long probably wasn’t a good idea.

It meant, at least, that Bonnie could safely find some amusement in listening to Damon as he choked on his mouthful of bourbon, fist pounding against his chest, for the entire length of her walk up the hallway to the spare room. She got undressed and changed into a holey long sleeved shirt and some cute dungarees - her mom had style back in the 90s - and waited, on the edge of her proverbial seat, for Damon’s answer. 

“What? No! I have a girlfriend!” And there was the telling jump of a lie in his heartbeat but Bonnie couldn’t tell which part of Damon’s sentence it had happened at. Bonnie shouldn’t care and she _knew_ that, but she couldn’t stop herself. Her feelings for Damon were becoming increasingly hard to ignore.

“A girlfriend who isn’t Bonnie?” Disbelief colored Kai’s voice. “ _Why?_ ”

Bonnie brought her hearing back to its usual capabilities then and made sure she was keeping her thoughts from Damon. Despite knowing that Damon loved Elena, she didn’t actually want to listen to him listing all of the reasons why for Kai. 

After rifling through a few bedrooms Bonnie found a bag appropriate for carrying all of Kai’s nonsense objects around. It was just a blessing that they had everything at the house, or at least she thought they did, starting with the shower drain Bonnie took right out of the floor of the bathroom she’d just wandered into. It got tossed into the bag, as did a pocket knife and a black marker. What the fuck was a _grinding wheel_?

Bonnie wandered through the house until she came across Stefan’s bedroom, and found something that looked appropriately like one on his desk. She threw it into her bag but didn’t linger; thinking of Stefan made her annoyed on Damon’s behalf. Bonnie almost forgot not to whoosh downstairs to the kitchen to tick off the can opener and jam portion of the scavenger hunt and caught herself just in time. The jam was strawberry, not plum, but Kai would just have to deal. 

Once she’d hit the library for volume oh of the encyclopedia that only left a nail. Bonnie made her way back into the living room and walked past Kai to grab the hammer Damon had used to put the piece of wood over the hole in the window: a quick yank had a single nail falling into her palm. Bonnie slapped it on the table and dumped the contents of her bag on top of it. It was a miracle the jam jar didn’t break.

“I’ve got everything that you asked for. Now what?” Something else occurred to her. “And where’s the grimoire?”

Kai smirked at her and wiggled his fingers, which was about all he could manage with the way his arms were taped to the chair. “I can’t show you with my hands taped. Sorry about the window, by the way. Limited options.”

Fucking hell. Bonnie grabbed the pocket knife and cut the tape, ignoring Damon’s annoyed grumble. She had her powers back, Damon had his own magic, and they were _both_ vampires. They’d be fine. Bonnie still moved to stand next to Damon as soon as Kai had the ability to move freely again because there was only one person she trusted with her life in this room, and it sure as hell wasn’t Kai. 

Kai pointed towards one of the far bookshelves. “The grimoire is right there, you dummy. You must’ve not looked very hard. Or were you busy?”

That brought Bonnie right back to worrying that Kai _had_ been watching them after he’d broken in the other night. But it was easy to ignore him when Bonnie was rushing - at a normal human speed - to pull the grimoire off of the bookshelf, where it had apparently been the whole time. She brought it over and put it on the couch before she stood next to Damon again.

Damon’s arm brushed against hers and Bonnie was aware of Kai watching them, the way his eyes kept flicking between all of their points of contact. It was making Bonnie uncomfortable, but not so much that she was going to move further away from Damon. They didn’t have anything to hide from Kai.

Damon looked at the pile of nonsense on the table. “How the hell is this supposed to help us get out of here?”

“See, I’d tell you, but I’m not so sure you deserve to come along.” Kai grinned at Damon and Bonnie was just happy that he was concentrating on something other than their proximity to each other.

Damon groaned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, look at it this way. Bonnie’s magic is one part of the equation, and my as yet undisclosed knowledge is another. It’s not fair that you should hitch a ride for free. What are _you_ bringing to the table?” 

Kai looked like such a smug asshole Bonnie was half-tempted to stab him with the pocket knife she was still holding. Instead she just looked at him, aware of the barely contained violence in Damon as he stood next to her. If Bonnie wanted to stab Kai, Damon probably wanted to rip his head clean off. “Either Damon comes with us or we all stay here forever.”

A warm kind of unidentifiable emotion fluttered into Bonnie’s mind before Damon’s emotions transformed back into the dull white noise that she had no hope of untangling. Bonnie wanted to look at his face - what would she see there, that he was so determined to hide from her? - but she made herself keep looking at Kai.

Her response had at least removed the smugness from Kai’s face and he looked between them both again like he was cataloguing all the places that they were touching. “Seriously? Are you sure you’re not fucking?”

Damon delicately took the still-open pocket knife from her and rushed forward to hold the blade against Kai’s neck. “Or I could just torture you until you say something that’s actually useful.” Bonnie didn’t hear even the slightest elevation in Kai’s heartbeat. It was like he was taking a leisurely stroll, not in a potentially life or death situation. 

Kai laughed and the blade moved against his neck. “If you torture me I’ll get mad, and then I won’t want to help you. What kind of person needs to have that explained to them?” He rolled his eyes at Bonnie exaggeratedly like they were in cahoots, like Damon was being unreasonable and this was all a big fun joke. Bonnie thought that Damon wasn’t putting enough pressure against Kai’s neck if he was still in the mood to be a dick.

Bonnie moved forward and took the knife out of Damon’s grip to drop it back down onto the table and he sighed but let go of Kai, who went and sat on the couch. Bonnie watched in disgust as he opened the jar of jam and dunked his hand right into it, scooping out a handful that he proceeded to eat. He made a face. “Oh, what the fuck? This isn’t plum, Bonnie!”

Maybe flipping Kai off was immature of her, but Bonnie didn’t care. She flopped onto the other couch, as far away from Kai as she could get while still being comfortable. Damon sat down next to her and Kai just kept on eating his jam. It was truly disgusting to watch and Bonnie worried that he was going to make himself sick because he wasn’t slowing down.

He finished the whole jar and started playing with the lid and the can opener. The closest comparison that came to mind was that he was like a toddler on crack, always moving and never entertained for long. The lid and can opener only amused him for about fifteen minutes - each tick of the clock in the hallway made Bonnie want to die slightly more - until he stretched himself out on the couch and proceeded to go to sleep. 

“For fuck’s sake.” Damon got up from the couch and moved over to the bar cart to fix them both a hearty portion of bourbon. Bonnie felt like she needed it and she took a huge sip of hers when Damon brought it over, sitting down closer to her. They watched Kai as he twitched in his sleep.

“There’s something seriously wrong with him.”

And Bonnie had whispered it, but Kai snuffled awake with a start. “Hey, don’t be mean. I’m awake!” 

Like he wanted to prove just how _not asleep_ he was, Kai started to rifle through the stuff he’d made Bonnie find, clanking around with the pieces until they’d turned into some weird, spiky… disc thing. It actually looked a little like the drawings of the mechanical devices Bonnie had seen on the _Ascendants_ page of the grimoire. Bonnie picked up the grimoire and opened it to the appropriate page - the page had a tear where Kai had ripped the paper for his note - turning the book so Damon could see. He raised his eyebrows at her.

His toy complete, Kai looked up at them and saw what Bonnie was looking at. “See, now you’re getting it! That’s our way out of here.” That got their attention; they spoke at the same time.

“What?”

“How?”

Happy to have a captive audience, Kai leaned back against the cushions and twirled his makeshift toy - an ascendant, Bonnie now realized - in his hands. “We’ll harness the power of the eclipse using a mystical relic called an ascendant, that looks a little bit like _this_ ,” and he held up his homemade device and grinned like he expected them to applaud. When they didn’t do anything he sighed and picked up the encyclopedia. 

“The last time we had it, it was in the Pacific Northwest. Oregon.” He opened to a page and turned the book towards them, pointing. Bonnie was more focused on another part of his sentence, though.

“You said ‘we’?”

“Yeah, it belongs to my family.” Kai picked up the pocket knife and made a neat slice in the tip of his finger. The smell of blood filled the room. “Now all we need is to do a locator spell, which you might actually be able to manage now, Bonnie.”

How could one person be so aggravating? Bonnie bared her hopefully-human teeth at him in a grimace. Damon was bristling beside her like he found Kai just as annoying as she did and Bonnie honestly couldn’t wait to get out of this place and away from Kai. She grabbed the encyclopedia and headed for a room with better light, Kai following uncomfortably close behind her.

Bonnie set the book down and watched as Kai let his bleeding finger drip onto the page. Damon was watching from the other side of the room, looking bored. Bonnie reopened their connection to send _can you grab some candles? The big ones please_ his way. He nodded and whooshed from the room, returning moments later to place the candles on the table beside her. It was a relief, to move her hand over the wicks and have them immediately light for her. 

There wasn’t anything left but to say the words of the spell. Bonnie had done a locator spell enough times that she didn’t even need to think about it, which made it doubly confusing when Kai’s blood didn’t move along the map at all. Bonnie frowned. She should be able to feel her magic moving through her, but it was stagnant. “Something doesn’t feel right. Maybe I need a bigger map?” 

Damon tipped his fresh bourbon at her. “You _are_ out of practice.”

Bonnie pulled a face at him; he grinned. “Thanks for the reminder.”

Kai moved closer to her and Bonnie tried to subtly shift away. “Don’t listen to him, Bonnie. Think of him as a white noise machine -” and Bonnie had to fight not to laugh because Kai had no way of knowing how accurate that was, with Damon’s thoughts buzzing incomprehensibly in her head. “- that’s how I used to tune out my siblings.”

That had Bonnie’s attention and Kai grinned like it pleased him. “I grew up with a ton of little brothers and sisters who were constantly making noise. But it taught me how to focus.” He angled himself towards her, leaning close like they were sharing a secret. Damon clanked his glass down and Kai smirked at Bonnie, his dark eyes glittering.

“Easy there, big brother. She doesn’t know you. At least buy her a drink.” 

The blatant possessiveness - and protectiveness - in Damon’s voice sent a bolt of warmth through Bonnie but she couldn’t afford to let herself be distracted by it with Kai watching. She started the spell again and watched as Kai’s blood started to move on the map, a diagonal line that started from Oregon and headed straight for… where they were? 

Kai leaned over her shoulder. “The blood’s moving towards Virginia. That can’t be right.”

Bonnie was so focused that she didn’t shift away from him, shaking her head. “No, the spell’s working. It’s heading straight for Mystic Falls.” A strange feeling overtook her and suddenly Bonnie knew exactly where the ascendant was. She turned to Kai. “It feels so… close.”

As soon as she put her hand on Kai’s chest the flame of the candles grew, a whoosh of noise and smoke. “You’ve had it the entire time, you jackass.”

He laughed, reaching into an inside pocket of his jacket. Bonnie could have screamed when he took out the ascendant. It was a clunky and old looking piece of mechanical parts, just like she had seen in the drawings. Damon blew out a huge breath from across the room. 

Kai’s voice dripped with condescension. “Very good! I had to make sure your magic is precise enough for the spell. I do believe you’re ready… pack your bags, we’re going home!”

And then Kai walked straight past them and out the front door. 

Damon looked at Bonnie for a moment before he shrugged and followed him and Bonnie took after them both because what else was there to do? The front lawn was littered with a week's worth of newspapers. She hadn’t touched one since the day she had run from Damon and she picked one up for something to do.

Now Kai was walking around, sometimes in circles, pointing the ascendant towards the sky. Damon asked the question a second before Bonnie could: “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m looking for the exact right spot. We need to find where the power of the eclipse is focused. Harder to do, considering it hasn’t been lasting for as long ever since you two arrived.”

Well, that confirmed Bonnie’s theory that time was definitely acting strange here. The eclipse should have lasted a minute at least but sometimes it didn’t happen at all, or it only lasted for a handful of seconds. How much harder would that make things?

Bonnie could ask about that later. Right now she had a bone to pick. “You know, you could have just shown us the ascendant to begin with?”

Kai didn’t turn around when he said, “yeah, but I wanted to feel your hand on my chest.”

Just like that Bonnie regretted saying anything. The last thing she wanted was for Kai to be attracted to her. Annoyed, she glanced down at the paper as they followed Kai around and immediately saw something that caught her eye: Oregon. That’s where Kai had said he was from, right? Could it be a coincidence?

 _Hey, come on_.

Damon was waiting for her on the driveway; Bonnie had frozen in place. She scrambled to catch up, only half listening to Damon asking Kai why they were going on a nature walk and Kai’s explanation that he knew where they had to be to harness the power of the eclipse or _whatever_ now. The story she was reading in the paper had all of her attention. 

_D, there’s something in here about Oregon._

“What about it?”

Bonnie flinched and prayed that Kai didn’t notice that Damon was asking a question out of nowhere. “You know how Kai said he had all of those brothers and sisters?” She was keeping her voice low but there was something about the tilt of Kai’s head that told her he was listening. Damon stopped and looked at her, then down at what she was pointing to in the paper.

“‘Family Massacred in Portland’. The only one missing was the oldest boy, a twenty-two year old named Malachai.”

Kai spun around slowly, a small smile on his face. His smile grew when Damon shifted so that he was standing slightly in front of Bonnie, a human - or a vampire - shield. “Who names a kid Malachai? It’s like they expected me to be evil.”

Bonnie had known that there was something off about Kai, but this was next level insane. “Damon, these kids were _murdered_.”

Kai made to move closer and Damon angled himself entirely in front of Bonnie, one hand behind himself like he thought he would have to stop her from moving around him. Bonnie had no plans of the sort; instead she just put one of her hands in Damon’s, like she’d done at _Bell’s_ , and squeezed.

“Hey! Not everyone died. I had a soft spot for one of my sisters, otherwise I would have cut her lungs out instead of her spleen.” And then Kai grinned like what he’d just said wasn’t completely horrifying. He was a fucking _psychopath_.

Just because Bonnie had had her suspicions that Kai wasn’t quite right in the head didn’t mean that shock wasn’t coursing through her. She felt frozen with it, her hand slack in Damon’s grip. “What?”

Kai widened his eyes. “You can survive without a spleen!” 

“Something tells me you’re not speaking hypothetically.” Damon’s voice was entirely level but Bonnie could see the tension he was holding in his body, which only magnified itself when Kai moved closer to point at the faces of the children in the paper. Worry flared over their connection and Damon moved with him, so that Bonnie was always just out of Kai’s reach.

“No, look: these two, I hung off the stairwell railing. Then I put a hunting knife in her abdomen. And oh, him I drowned in the pool! But he kept fighting me. I was like, ‘I saved you for last, you ungrateful little -’” and Bonnie couldn’t even hear him anymore over her nausea. They were trapped here with Kai and he was fucking _evil._

“You just killed your whole family?”

Kai was walking up the gravel driveway again, aiming the ascendant in the air seemingly at random. Did he even know how to get out of here, or was this all some big game? His heartbeat never quickened or dulled. It was always just the same steady beat, impossible to spot a lie - or emotion - in. “Well, coven. If we’re being technical.”

Bonnie’s stomach dropped and Damon squeezed her hand again, looking over his shoulder at her. She could see and feel his concern and she realized that her heart had stopped beating altogether, like Kai had scared it right into stillness. Bonnie couldn’t tell Damon she was fine because it would have been a lie. Then Damon pulled a face and looked back at Kai.

“If you’re a witch and magic is the key to getting out of here, why did you make Bonnie jump through hoops?”

“I’ve got no magic, obviously,” like that made any sense at all. Well, it sort of did, considering that Bonnie had been in the same predicament not a full day ago. Kai laughed suddenly, spinning to look at them again. “The Gemini Coven didn’t take it too well when news of what happened in Portland reached them… it’s why they banished me here.”

All of Bonnie’s confusion around the ascendant disappeared. She’d told Damon she thought it had something to do with a prison, and she was right. “This place is your prison, isn’t it?”

Kai’s face fell, the most solemn Bonnie had seen him. Though she could _barely_ see him, because the eclipse was happening overhead. Was it noon already? Kai was looking at Damon. “Yup. This was never your hell, Damon. It’s always been mine.”

Even without access to Damon’s emotions it would have been obvious when the tension drained out of him. He’d been punishing himself this entire time, his guilt at killing Gail magnified exponentially, for no reason. The Universe wasn’t punishing him. Bonnie was happy for him, she was, but she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t help Kai get out. 

When she let go of Damon’s hand - how long had they been standing there, their fingers interlaced with each other’s? - he looked at her in askance, but Bonnie was looking at Kai. The eclipse was already finishing overhead and the sun returning should have brought some light into his eyes, but they were flat and bottomless pools of darkness. Kai was Silas-levels of demented and she _couldn’t do this_.

“No.”

Kai froze. “No?”

Without answering him, or Damon’s questions in her head, Bonnie turned and started walking back to the house. There had to be another way to do this that didn’t involve unleashing Kai and his _entire thing_ on their world. Bonnie would find a way; she had her magic back now. She and Damon were going home, but Kai would be trapped here forever. 

Bonnie would make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... there's that! 
> 
> This chapter was a labour of love but I'm really happy with how it turned out. As always please let me know what you think with a comment or by leaving kudos - I can't tell you how much I appreciate every single one 🥺💗
> 
> I've been keeping up with posting on my fic twitter so if you want to follow me over there you can do so [@bonbennetts](https://twitter.com/bonbennetts) and as always my tumblr is [@bonbennett](https://bonbennett.tumblr.com/).


	13. saying things you shouldn't say to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonnie and Damon have a few secrets up their sleeves... but so does Kai.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from 'hope is a heartache' by LÉON.

**bonnie -**

When Bonnie walked back into the house she wished that she and Damon could just lock themselves inside and put the spell back up, leaving Kai outside to chase the eclipse to his heart’s content and find his own demented way out of this place. 

As it was, Kai followed them right back inside and left the door wide open.

Damon’s confusion was almost deafening over their connection and Bonnie felt a little sick. What was there for him to be confused about? Kai had just admitted to killing his entire family - or everyone but his ‘favorite sister’ - and Bonnie couldn’t just let him out of this place, even if it meant that they couldn’t leave either. Not when Kai was a murderer.

“Bonnie, what do you mean ‘no’? We could get out of here!” Damon reached for her arm but she flinched away, not in the mood to be touched when she felt so overwhelmed. Shock and hurt flared up over their connection before Damon’s emotions went abruptly fuzzy; Bonnie hid her thoughts from him in turn. She could think about what she wanted to say without Damon getting a sneak preview, or his feelings hurt if she thought something she didn’t really mean.

“We can’t let him out of here! He just said he’s a serial killer!” She turned to look at him properly and Damon was hanging back from her, the hand he’d reached out to her with hanging limp at his side. Kai was watching their interaction from over Damon’s shoulder. He was grinning and Bonnie remembered him saying that she and Damon were the first interesting thing that had happened to him in years; they were probably the equivalent of a TV show for him. It was annoying to have an audience.

Eventually Damon rubbed a hand over his face, like he was gearing himself up to say something he’d really rather not. “So? He might not be a model citizen but neither am I. I’ve done bad things too, Bonnie.”

Oh, that was such bullshit. Damon was nothing like Kai. He felt guilt and remorse; he felt shame. It was obvious from the way that Kai had basically gloated over the violent deaths of his siblings that he felt none of those things. Bonnie had to wonder if he felt any emotion at all, beyond delight at his own awful nature. She shook her head. “You’re nothing like him, Damon! You’re a good person.”

Kai made a noise like he was overcome with emotion, holding a hand against his chest while he mockingly swooned. “Oh, my god. Pass me the tissues! Is this the part where you kiss?”

Damon tugged at his hair and ignored him, which was definitely the safest course of action. “I’m not, Bonnie! Stefan had to compel Uncle Zach to forget about Gail and the baby entirely, like neither of them had ever existed. But Stefan couldn’t compel away all the people I killed that day. I killed them in that room -” and Damon was shouting as he pointed at the room they’d spent the morning in. “and you’re still going to tell me I’m a good person?”

Bonnie glanced at Kai and saw that he was looking at them like they’d started speaking in Polish, or doing the Macarena. He hadn’t heard this story before, then. Bonnie was relieved to know the spell was effective at stopping him from spying on them even as she wanted to strangle Damon, or maybe hug him. “Yes, I am. Because you _are_ a good person even if you don’t want to admit it.”

Bored of no one paying attention to him and not knowing what they were talking about, Kai stepped forward. “Come on, Bonnie. You must want to go home to your friends. Do you have a boyfriend back home?” He shook his head like he was trying to shake free the thought. “Not important. Me personally? I want to go home and give the rest of the Gemini Coven a truly excruciating death. Win-win! What do you say?” 

Kai really was so fucking deranged that he thought that was a fair trade. And that’s exactly why Bonnie couldn’t say yes to this. It was why she could _never_ say yes to this. Damon moved closer to her and Bonnie was all too happy to train her attention on him instead of Kai who was just staring at her, barely blinking.

“Look, Bonnie, I know Kai’s batshit insane,” Kai’s indignant shout at that got ignored too. “But we can’t stay here forever. We have friends back home. Family. I need to go back for Elena, I need to go back for my brother,“ and Bonnie looked away from Damon. She knew that he loved Elena, but that didn’t make it any less painful to hear considering the last week they'd spent together, and the way she was starting to feel about Damon. “And you need to go back for Jeremy, right?”

God. Now Bonnie wanted to cry because she was an awful person, a horrible person, who hadn’t even thought of Jeremy in days. Not once. 

Bonnie shook her head, emotion clogging her throat. “I’m sorry, Damon. I can’t.” Bonnie could only hope that Damon wasn’t so desperate to get home to Elena that he would reveal that he _also_ had magic to Kai, because then she would have no way of stopping them from leaving. 

There was no opportunity to find out if that’s what Damon would have done because Kai moved closer to her. “Sorry doesn’t work for me, Bonnie.” He reached out a hand to touch her and Bonnie didn’t even have time to dodge it before Damon was grabbing Kai and whooshing away, pinning Kai against the opposite wall with an arm across his chest. Kai squirmed but he couldn’t really move; his breath rattled in his chest.

Damon’s voice was low and full of menace. “Hey. We might be having a bit of a disagreement, but don’t _ever_ lay a hand on her.” 

Bonnie blinked at Damon in disbelief. Again Kai’s heartbeat didn’t elevate any higher than its usual maddeningly steady beat, whereas Bonnie’s heart felt like it was going to jump right out of her chest. Damon was protecting her, sure, but Bonnie could hear the same possessiveness in his voice as she could when Kai had gotten in her space earlier and Damon had told him to back off. Damon hated when Kai came anywhere near Bonnie and she wanted to know _why_. 

Kai turned his head to look out the open front door, at where the day was almost blindingly bright. “Kind of a non-issue, isn’t it? We missed the eclipse. Rain check for tomorrow?”

Was he really not getting this? Bonnie would rather die than help him. 

“No, Kai.” She walked past them both and back outside, desperate for fresh air and some _space_. She felt overheated and clammy at the same time. Footsteps on the grass behind her told her that Damon had followed her. When Bonnie felt his fingertips graze her arm she turned towards him ready to yell, to plead her case and explain again why she couldn’t do this, but she didn’t get the chance.

Damon pulled her close. 

Bonnie only let her surprise freeze her for a moment before she wound her arms around Damon, turning her face to press it against his chest. One of his hands came up to cradle her head and this was so fucking strange. How had they gotten to this place in the space of a week, where they could offer each other genuine comfort? Where doing so came so naturally to them both?

Bonnie sucked in a breath that was frustratingly shaky. “I’m sorry, Damon. I can’t. I just - I can’t let him out,” shaking her head as much as she could with Damon holding her so effectively against him.

The hand that Damon wasn’t cupping her head with was curled around her waist, and he had found the gap between her shirt and dungarees to land on bare skin. Bonnie felt herself relaxing against him, barely caring if Kai was watching them right now. Damon spoke against her hair. “I can’t really blame you. You can _smell_ the crazy coming off of him.”

Bonnie laughed and as much as she wanted to stay just like they were she made herself pull away from him. Allowing herself a moment of comfort was fine, but it was hard to keep holding onto Damon when _I need to go back for Elena_ was still ringing in her ears. When she looked towards the house she saw Kai standing at one of the windows, watching them just like she thought he would be. He held up a hand and wiggled his fingers at her in a wave.

“Fucking hell. He’s such a creep, it should have been obvious he was a serial killer from the start.”

Damon followed her gaze and rolled his eyes when he saw Kai watching them. He turned back to her. “ _Right?_ The pork rinds were a sign.”

They both watched as Kai moved away from the window. Did he expect that he would be allowed to stay at the house, now that they had dropped the spell? Bonnie didn’t know if telling him no was an option. He’d been fairly level-headed until she’d refused to help and then his first instinct had apparently been violence, which didn’t exactly bode well for future interactions. 

The sun was already lower in the sky, like four hours had passed in the space of ten minutes. How long would it be before there was really no eclipse at all and they got trapped here forever, irrespective of her willingness to help? Bonnie jumped when Damon poked her in the side, right where she was most ticklish. She let out a pained laugh and swatted at him. “Hey!”

Damon grinned at her and Bonnie knew that she was going to pay for that sometime in the future. “Come on, I’ll make dinner.”

They walked back into the house and Kai was nowhere to be seen, which was more than a little unnerving, especially when Bonnie realized that Kai had shielded his heartbeat again. Bonnie hated that she couldn’t hear him because it felt like he could pop up at any moment. She and Damon would have to be careful about what they said but also what they _didn’t_ say. 

How long would it take Kai to notice that they could communicate without actually saying anything out loud?

Bonnie sat at the table and watched Damon as he gathered ingredients, the sun beginning to set through the window behind him. It took her a handful of seconds to realize what he was planning to make and she was sure her surprise was obvious on her face. “Pancakes?” Damon didn’t look up at her as he mixed the batter together, pouring it into the pan once it was hot enough. The sizzle was weirdly comforting. 

_To say goodbye to her._

Kai had told them that this was his prison, his hell; punishment for murdering his family in cold blood. Having to relive the day Damon had killed Gail was cruel but it wasn’t a deliberate attempt by the Universe to punish him, yet Damon still felt regret. It meant that Bonnie felt even more certain in her belief that Damon was a good person.

They sat in silence as Damon cooked and the sun went beneath the horizon so that the room was only illuminated by the fire, and the lamps that Bonnie got up to turn on. When Damon brought a merry stack of pancakes over to her they smelled good and were golden brown, no soggy or overcooked bits to be seen. The whipped cream vampire face even made her smile, and they were more than edible when she took her first bite. Damon moved away to lean against the counter and Bonnie looked at him as she ate.

“The remorse you’re feeling? It’s what makes you different from Kai. You’re not perfect -” Damon scoffed and took a sip from the bourbon at his elbow. “- but you’re _trying_ , Damon. You’re trying to be better.”

Instead of responding directly to that - Bonnie wished again that she could feel his emotions, just to get an idea of whether he believed her or not - Damon rounded the counter. “We can still get out of here, Bonnie. Who says we even need Kai’s help? We’ll steal the ascendant and find out what he knows. We’ll ditch him! He doesn’t have any powers, anyway.”

“Actually, it’s not that simple.”

Bonnie had to tighten her grip on her fork so that she didn’t betray her surprise and unease by dropping it onto the table. Kai had appeared in the doorway without a sound, not even the rustling of his clothes to let them know he was coming. How could he _do_ that? They had vampire hearing and even that didn’t help.

Damon glared at him. “It’s really creepy when you do that, you know?”

Without looking at Damon Kai walked into the room and Bonnie felt herself tensing up. The energy he brought with him was like a physical thing and she had a really bad feeling. “Here’s the thing: I have a weird effect on magic. I can’t generate it myself…” Kai walked past the fire and closer to Bonnie and she stood up so she was level with him. “...but I can consume it from others, temporarily.”

He was standing right next to Bonnie now and she looked over at Damon to find him looking just as tense as she felt. Damon’s magic was one of the only things that Kai still didn’t know about and suddenly it was more important than anything to Bonnie that it stayed that way. 

_Damon, no matter what he does, don’t use your magic._

Damon looked from Kai to her, his eyes wide and pleading. _If he hurts you -_

_DON’T._

It took a moment but Damon nodded, the slightest twitch of his head. Kai kept talking and Bonnie made herself focus on what he was saying because that bad feeling she had? It was getting worse by the minute.

“My family called me an abomination. That hurt my feelings.” When Kai lunged for her arm, Bonnie couldn’t move away in time. At first she didn’t feel anything at all, besides the bruising grip he had on her wrist, and Kai looked down at his hand on her in surprise. Was something supposed to be happening? She was a vampire _and_ a witch. Maybe that was fucking with his mojo?

And then she felt it. 

Every ounce of magic in her body jetted through her towards Kai’s hand on her arm before it literally started to flow out of her and _into him_. The pain of it was excruciating, like being lit on fire from the inside, and Bonnie screamed as she shoved and pulled at Kai’s hand, trying to get him to let go of her. When Damon cried out in pain she looked up to see him clutching his head, his eyes unfocused. Bonnie could only assume that Kai was giving Damon an aneurysm. 

One of the barstools caught on fire like Kai couldn’t control the amount of magic he was sucking out of her and Bonnie prayed that he didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.

It was impossible to concentrate on keeping her mental walls up when she felt like she was going to fall over at any moment so Bonnie stopped trying. Damon must have been struggling too because his pain and confusion and terror hit her all at once before they disappeared from her head entirely a second later. Had Kai stealing her magic broken their connection? Bonnie felt like she was going to throw up, the edges of her vision starting to dim.

Damon let go of his head to wave his hands in the air. “Okay, we get it! Let go of her!”

Bonnie couldn’t have been more relieved when Kai listened to Damon and dropped her arm. She tried to breathe through the pain that was like an ache in every single one of her muscles and somehow stay standing at the same time. Damon was using the kitchen counter to stop himself from falling onto the ground and Bonnie still couldn’t feel his emotions. When she realized that she couldn’t focus her hearing enough to hear his heartbeat either, panic started to course through her.

_Damon? D? Please say something._

Nothing. Damon was looking at her though, his eyes wide with shock. His emotions were gone from her head, but it wasn’t the usual fuzziness that Bonnie experienced when he was blocking her: it was just pure silence. Bonnie _hated_ it. If she couldn’t feel his emotions or send a thought his way, Bonnie could only assume that Damon looked so stricken because he couldn’t hear her thoughts or feel her in his head either. 

Kai spread his hands out, palms up, in a sort of _what can you do?_ type of shrug. “You can see why my coven and I didn’t get along!”

Damon shook his head like he was trying to clear it and stood slightly straighter, his vampire nature helping him to recover faster than what Bonnie could manage. “I smell an ultimatum.”

Kai made a considering noise and extended a hand towards Bonnie. She flinched away, clutching her throbbing arm to her chest, and he laughed. “If I consume all of Bonnie’s magic to find my own way out of here, I’m just going to end up killing her.” He walked behind her, dragging a finger along her shoulders as he went. Bonnie started shaking and couldn’t make herself stop. “But if we work together, we can all go home as friends!”

Bonnie turned her head to glare at Kai, sure that all of the hate she felt for him would be clear. He had the gall to smirk at her. “Or, I can devour all of her magic, kill you both, and go home alone. The decision’s yours.”

Then Kai sat down at the table and picked up her discarded cutlery, cutting into the pancakes that she’d only half eaten. He grinned at them both over his first mouthful and Bonnie had to get away from him. She stumbled towards Damon on legs that barely felt like they worked and as soon as she was close enough Damon reached out for her, moving her behind him. It was a little late but that didn’t mean that Bonnie appreciated it any less; Damon’s first instinct was always to protect her.

Could they even kill Kai, if he could just steal their magic? He hadn’t touched Damon. Did that mean that Damon still had his magic as well as his vampirism? Bonnie barely felt like a witch right now let alone a vampire, she was so drained. _Literally_. 

The thought of being in the same room as Kai made her feel sick to her stomach and Bonnie moved for the door, Kai’s voice following her as she went. “Aren’t you going to finish your pancakes? Bonnie?” When she walked out of the kitchen and didn’t respond he only shouted louder. “Okay, bye! I’m staying here tonight!”

God. They couldn’t even stop him. Bonnie felt so powerless that she knew it would take a while for her magic to regenerate, and if Damon put the spell back up to throw Kai out of the house the cat would be out of the bag. They were _teammates_ , like Kai had said. Until they found a different way to get home they were stuck with him.

This situation was so fucked and Bonnie sucked in a sharp breath, frustrated tears welling up in her eyes. Bonnie was just standing in the hallway feeling lost in more ways than one when Damon came out of the kitchen after her. She didn’t fight it when he ducked to pick her up, whooshing them both up the stairs, and she swayed in place when he put her down in the hallway outside of his bedroom. 

Bonnie had to hold herself up against the wall and just breathe for a minute.

With her feelings for Damon so muddled up inside of her Bonnie knew rationally that the smart thing to do - the _right_ thing to do - would be to sleep in the spare bedroom, especially after what had happened the other night. The door had a lock on it and it would probably keep Kai out just fine; if nothing else Bonnie would hear the rattle of the doorknob if he tried to break in. 

They could face the Kai problem with fresh eyes in the morning, once her magic had had time to regenerate, and once they had reopened their connection with a little bit of blood sharing.

Damon watched her as she looked into his room before she stepped towards the doorway of the spare bedroom. Bonnie paused and said to the wall, “I should… I should sleep in here, right?”

Silence reigned and Bonnie turned to look at Damon to find indecision plain on his face. After a moment he said, “If you want to. I’ll stay awake, make sure he doesn’t try anything.”

Bonnie dropped Damon’s gaze and nodded. It was her decision, her choice, so she couldn’t be upset with Damon for agreeing with her. She made it halfway to closing the door behind her before Damon suddenly moved forward and stopped her with a hand on the wood.

“Or…” Damon drew it out, like he was hoping that Bonnie would just know what he wanted to say. If she didn’t feel like a husk right now she might have been able to guess even without their connection, but tonight wasn’t his night. Bonnie raised an eyebrow.

“Or?”

“Sleep with me.” Bonnie pulled a face and Damon groaned, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe he’d said that. “Not like _that_. Just… together.”

It wasn’t a small part of Bonnie that wanted to say yes, it was _every_ part. If they were going home soon - and she intended to, as soon as they had figured out how to stop Kai from hitching a ride - how much longer could they do this, find reasons to sleep in the same bed? A handful of days at most. She was a strong person and she knew that, but she wasn’t strong enough to say no to Damon right now. 

While that was true, her hesitation must have thrown Damon off because he laughed in a self-deprecating sort of way. “He already thinks we’re fucking, Bon. May as well.”

There wasn’t much to do in response to that besides lean forward to thunk her head against the wood of the door. Right, their psychotic roommate thought they were fucking, so what did they have to lose by sleeping in the same bed for comfort? Made sense. 

“Okay.” Bonnie looked at Damon and immediately decided that was a mistake, because the smile that took over his face was cautious yet somehow beaming at the same time. Like she was giving him a gift by saying yes. 

“Yeah?”

She nodded and looked over her shoulder to where her bag was laying on the floor, the contents strewn around it; she could see some appropriate pyjamas from here. “Just let me get changed?” 

So Damon went into his room while Bonnie got out of her clothes and into her much softer and more comfortable pyjamas. Every movement she made took longer with how her entire body was aching and Bonnie had to grit her teeth against the pain of it. There was the faint sound of water running to tell her that Damon was probably brushing his teeth and she tried to whoosh into his room without thinking about it and only managed to stumble forward a few steps before she caught herself on a dresser. 

Bonnie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Any vampire perks she might have enjoyed since she first fed from Damon had been taken away from her when Kai siphoned her magic, locked in some distant room she didn’t have easy access to. Bonnie tried to make her fangs drop and couldn’t, though her gums ached with the effort. Bonnie had thought that her connection with Damon had been the thing to transform her into a sort of vampire, but she was beginning to think it had always been a part of her and she had just never known before now. It felt like something that needed to regenerate before she could tap into it again, like her magic. But how did that work? Vampires were made, not born.

Bonnie probably wasn’t going to get any answers just standing there so she walked into Damon’s room instead, closing and locking the door behind her, to join Damon in the bathroom. He’d already gotten changed out of his clothes and into his usual bedtime attire of soft pyjama pants and no shirt; Bonnie admired the muscles of his back as he finished brushing his teeth, and then his front when she remembered that mirrors existed. 

Damon grinned at her around his toothbrush - had he seen her ogling him? It must have been kind of hard to miss - and pointed at something she hadn’t noticed on the counter: a glass filled with inky dark liquid. 

It was shocking, to look back at Damon and see her own face reflected in the mirror: where she couldn’t get her fangs to drop minutes ago, they’d done it of their own accord at the sight of his blood. The skin underneath her eyes was filled with veins that were almost purple, the movement of them making her skin ripple. She was - 

“You’re gorgeous like that.” 

Bonnie’s heart deep dived into her stomach. Her eyes caught Damon’s in the mirror - he hadn’t turned to look at her - and she waited for him to correct himself. Waited for him to take it back. He didn’t. 

What was she supposed to do? Laugh? It hadn’t sounded like a joke, or a lie, even if Bonnie couldn’t hear his heartbeat. A quick glance back at her own face told Bonnie that she looked completely stunned and Damon huffed a quiet laugh. He picked up the glass of blood and passed it to her; it took a second for Bonnie to remember how to work her hands enough to grip it.

“Drink up, Bon. It’s too quiet up here.” Damon gestured at his own head and left her alone in the bathroom, in what felt like a fever dream.

What the _fuck?_

Well, now Bonnie didn’t have to ask Damon if he was experiencing a one-sided version of their connection: Kai leeching her magic had been enough to break it on both ends. That was about the only part that made sense to her. Damon calling her gorgeous and implying that he couldn’t even go the night without her thoughts in his head - blocked from his view or not - was so insane that Bonnie thought she must still be downstairs, passed out on the floor and dreaming up nonsense. 

That was far more plausible to her than what had just happened.

What was there for her to do besides knock back Damon’s blood offering like a tequila shot, though? It tasted at least ten times better. As soon as she swallowed it down Bonnie started to feel like herself again; Damon’s heartbeat filtered into her head from the bedroom, and the faint buzzing of his blocked emotions joined her own confusing thoughts in her head. Kai stealing her magic had made Bonnie feel wrong and off-kilter and now that it was flowing back into her, bit by bit, she felt resettled. Whole. 

Was that a bad thing? That Damon helped to make her feel whole? Best not to think about that too much. Drinking Damon’s blood meant that she could feel his presence in her head, sure, but Bonnie had a feeling that Damon wouldn’t be able to feel hers in his own head until he’d drunk her blood again. Before she bit into her wrist for no reason Bonnie thought she had better test her theory.

_Damon?_

Bonnie gave it a few seconds just to make sure he really couldn’t hear her and got no response. She nodded to herself and bit into her wrist, watching herself in the mirror. Once her own blood hit her mouth Bonnie removed her fangs and tilted her wrist over the glass that Damon had used so that her blood pooled at the bottom. When she thought she had enough Bonnie lifted her arm to mouth and licked over the wound, watching in fascination as it closed up to show nothing but smooth skin.

When she looked at herself in the mirror for a second time, Bonnie saw that she looked leagues better than she had before. For one, all of her muscle aches had disappeared and she wasn’t hunched over in pain anymore. Her eyes seemed brighter and her skin even looked glowier. Damon was right: she _was_ gorgeous like this. 

Bonnie brushed her teeth and splashed some water on her face just for something to do. It was easy to tell that Damon wasn’t asleep, but was he on top of the sheets like he’d spent the majority of their time here, or was he beneath them like he had been the other night? Bonnie didn’t know what she would prefer.

If she stalled any longer Damon was going to get suspicious and she had to get their connection back up properly anyway, so she made herself walk back out into his room. He was on top of the sheets, reading a book - Bonnie couldn’t read the title - and just like that Bonnie knew that she had been lying to herself. She knew what she would have preferred, and that was Damon underneath the sheets. Bonnie also would have preferred that he wasn’t on _her_ side, but that’s what she got for taking so long.

“Here.”

Bonnie passed him the glass and Damon tipped it back without an ounce of hesitation and the feeling that overtook her as she watched Damon drinking her blood was a confusing one; it should have been disturbing, probably, but it only made Bonnie feel warm. Damon put the glass down on the nightstand and waited. Bonnie made sure that she was blocking her thoughts from him; he’d be able to feel her regardless. When he felt her presence in his head again, he grinned at her. “That’s better.”

Bonnie smiled back at him, filled with warmth again, and circled the bed so that she could lift the sheets, hop up, and get underneath them. When Damon immediately got to his feet she froze halfway through pulling them over herself. Had she done something wrong?

Damon put his book down on his nightstand - it was _Dracula_ , because he was a fucking idiot - and lifted the sheets on his side, getting in and settling himself on his pillow. Bonnie stared at him and he turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow when he saw that she was frozen in place. 

“What? I didn’t know if you were going to make me switch sides,” and Damon’s raised eyebrow turned into a frown. “Or did you not want me to get under the sheets? Fuck, sorry, I can -”

Damon moved to get out of the bed and Bonnie’s hand shot towards him of its own accord, curling around his wrist. “No! Don’t. I didn’t - I wasn’t sure if you’d want to.” Bonnie couldn’t make herself say anything more than that, because it would have meant saying something like _I wasn’t sure if you’d want to, considering what happened the last time we were on this bed together_. 

It would probably be better, to sleep with only one of them underneath the sheets so that they weren’t in danger of waking up curled together. Touching Damon might be becoming second nature, but it was also getting risky. 

Then the first part of Damon’s sentence sunk in. “Wait, you would have moved if I asked? Damon!” Bonnie released her grip on his arm so she could slap it instead. Damon laughed and tried to dodge out of the way.

“No! You’re on that side now, no take backs.” Bonnie kept slapping him and he laughed even louder. “Hey, violent! You’ll just end up on this side anyway, stop it!”

Damon probably wasn’t wrong, because Bonnie had ended up pressed against his leg every night that he’d spent on top of the sheets, hadn’t she? Seeking out contact with him even in her sleep. It was definitely another point in the ‘this is a bad idea, do not proceed’ column, even if Damon was basically saying he didn’t mind. 

It felt like too much effort to be embarrassed about it when she was having fun, laughing as she started to slap at Damon with both hands. He wasn’t doing much to stop her, or so Bonnie thought, because when she least expected it he poked her in between the ribs. Here was her proof that Damon knowing she was ticklish could never be a good thing. Bonnie shrieked, the tables turned, rolling onto her back as she tried to squirm away from his poking fingers. Was he seriously using vamp speed right now? That wasn’t _fair_.

Bonnie’s wriggling meant that her pyjama shirt was riding up her stomach. If she had been wearing one of Damon’s shirts she wouldn’t be having the issue at all, but the shirt was her mom’s; it was a tight ribbed material that clung to her curves in a way that hadn’t been deliberate when she picked it, but with the way Damon was looking at her? Bonnie didn’t regret the choice. 

Damon was relentless, his hands unerringly finding every single spot that made her squeal, only now he was touching the warmth of her bare skin and he was squeezing more than he was poking. Like they had the other night his hands felt huge on Bonnie’s body and her laughter was tapering off, her squirming transforming into something entirely different. 

When Damon squeezed the side of her waist again, Bonnie shifted into the touch instead of away from it and with a small noise she reached down to grab his wrist. She had intended to pull his hand away but that’s not what she was doing; instead, Bonnie just held his hand where it was. Damon moved his eyes up her body slowly enough that it felt like a caress. His pupils were blown and hers were probably no better and what were they _doing_? 

The way he had said _I need to go back for Elena_ blared like a siren in Bonnie’s head. “Damon -”

Damon shook off her weak grip to flop backwards onto his - _her_ \- side of the bed, his hands in the air. “Sorry. No touching, I promise.”

Bonnie lifted herself up so she could adjust her shirt, aware of Damon’s eyes on her skin as she pulled it down to cover her stomach again. She couldn’t cross her arms across her chest without drawing even more attention to the way her nipples had hardened so she just lay back down, pulling the sheets up over her. Without thinking about it at all - Bonnie blamed it on what had just happened, and her simmering arousal - she said, “I don’t remember that helping last time.”

It became so immediately silent that they must both be holding their breath. Could an awkward silence be heated? This one felt heated.

They were probably both remembering the other night, feeding from each other and grinding together without ever really touching all that inappropriately, Damon’s thumbs on her inner thighs notwithstanding; the way that they had both come, almost in tandem with one another. Bonnie’s embarrassment at having brought it up at all was making her wish that she could sink through the floor and why wasn’t Damon _saying_ anything - 

No one had ever sounded as scandalously delighted as Damon when he laughed loudly and said, “Bonnie Bennett, you _minx_.”

Potential crisis avoided, Bonnie snorted. Thank god she hadn’t fucked everything up by bringing up the thing they had decided not to mention. “Shut up.” 

Drinking Damon’s blood meant that her magic was coming back quicker than it would have otherwise but dealing with Kai for the whole day still meant that Bonnie felt like roadkill. He was turned up to fifteen all of the goddamn time, and dealing with that much manic energy was a full time job. Now that they knew he could siphon off their magic they would have to be even more vigilant around him. Not to mention that Kai could decide that he didn’t need them to get out of this place at all and just kill them both.

The way the barstool had caught on fire when Kai had just been trying to give Damon an aneurysm told Bonnie that Kai had found more magic to steal from her than he’d been expecting. She was more powerful than the average witch right now, wasn’t she? If Kai touched Damon and discovered the same bottomless well of magic he might start to ask questions that Bonnie wasn’t interested in answering. 

Stressing about it was only going to keep her awake, though. Bonnie sighed and rolled onto her side, pushing her pillow around until it was in the perfect position. There was more than a foot of space separating her from Damon and if she was being honest with herself, she wanted him closer and it had nothing to do with her arousal. Asking would have been as good as a declaration so Bonnie stayed quiet, listening to Damon’s quiet exhalations as she slowly drifted off. 

“Bonnie?”

She twitched. “What?”

Silence. Bonnie was about to kick Damon, because she had been _this close_ to going to sleep and he’d ruined it for no reason, when he continued: “If Kai thought we were fucking before, he _definitely_ does now.”

Yeah, all of the shrieking and laughing hadn’t exactly been subtle. No doubt Kai could hear them even if he hadn’t been deliberately listening at the door. Bonnie groaned and then laughed, screwing her eyes shut. Damon was chuckling beside her and the situation they were in wasn’t getting any less surreal, was it?

When they’d first landed in this place they tolerated each other at best and found each other painfully annoying at worst. Now they were sharing a bed, touching each other without thinking, and apparently uncaring if someone - a psychotic someone - thought they were fucking. Because they sort of had, but only the once. Did Bonnie want it to happen again?

Just because she shouldn’t want it to happen again didn’t mean that she _didn’t_ want it to happen again. Bonnie was starting to make her peace with that.

Sleep was encroaching on her now. Maybe she'd dream share with Enzo? At least she’d be able to tell him something worthwhile this time. _We’re trapped in 1994 with a serial killer, but he might help us get out - see you soon!_ Would she be able to take Damon into the dream with her, if they were both asleep at the same time?

There was only one way to find out. Bonnie relaxed into the sheets and the faint warmth she could feel radiating from Damon, and let sleep take her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the love and comments on the last chapter, I really appreciate it! 💗
> 
> Feel free to let me know your thoughts... and your theories! The next chapter will be the first in the switch back to Damon's POV. We're almost ready to say goodbye to the Prison World, folks!
> 
> I've been posting more updates on my fic twitter if you want to follow that [@bonbennetts](https://twitter.com/bonbennetts) and as always my tumblr is [@bonbennett](https://bonbennett.tumblr.com/).


	14. here and where you are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kai said it best: it's time to blow this popsicle stand.

**damon -**

There was being in over his head, and then there was whatever situation Damon had gotten himself into now. 

Bonnie was asleep next to him, Kai was… somewhere, and Damon’s ears were still ringing after being reminded of the other night and the way that Bonnie had moved against his clothed dick as she fed from him. The fact that he came in his pants like some sort of _amateur_ was bad enough, let alone that if he were human his dick would probably still be chafed from how frantically he’d jerked off in the shower once Bonnie had hid from him, trying not to listen to her a handful of bathrooms away. Bonnie had been able to look him in the eye afterwards so he could only assume she’d been too busy feeling awful about the whole thing to have heard him. 

That wasn’t to say that Damon didn’t regret it, because he did, but he could also admit that it was also one of the hottest, most out-of-body things he’d ever experienced. He could multitask.

Damon groaned as quietly as he could and pressed his fingers against his eyes until he saw starbursts. 

Kai hadn’t even been able to get into the house when they had done that and he still thought they were fucking. Damon had almost bitten through his tongue stopping himself from asking Kai _why_. Was it all of the touching? Damon didn’t think he could stop himself from reaching out for Bonnie if someone tied his hands behind his back at this point, which he would have felt worse about if she wasn’t standing so close to him all the time.

It went without saying that his head was a confusing place to be at the moment. 

Damon was euphoric at the idea of being able to go home to Elena, who he missed like a limb. He found himself thinking of her at random points in the day, imagining her laugh or her smile, or the way her body felt underneath his. It felt like the Universe was torturing him by showing him the way home with the attached condition that they’d have to go back with a serial killer in the sidecar. 

It was hard to be mad at Bonnie for immediately vetoing that idea. Kai had said point blank that his intention once he got back was to make sure that the coven who had trapped him here suffered painful deaths. No, _excruciating_ deaths. It was an important distinction. Explicit threats of violence aside, though… Damon still wanted to go home. A little neck snap or a heart yank for Kai once they knew the spell and their problems would be solved!

And there would be no more of this. Bonnie wouldn’t need to - or want to, probably - sleep beside him anymore. They wouldn’t need to rely on each other for comfort or for protection; they’d go back to the lives they’d left. Damon had Elena, and Bonnie had Jeremy. 

So why did Damon feel torn up inside?

As excited as he was to go home, he knew that he wasn’t really ready to give up the closeness that he and Bonnie shared. Even as she slept Damon could feel her presence in his head. Would that go away, once they got out of here? Damon wouldn’t be restricted with his food options like Kai had made sure he was here. Though their connection hadn’t dropped out naturally since that first day - his temporary death and Kai sucking up Bonnie’s magic like a vacuum were unique circumstances - it would probably fade away as soon as he and Bonnie weren’t feeding from each other anymore.

What if - 

Bonnie made a soft noise in her sleep and rolled over, one of her hands stretching out underneath the sheets until it landed in the No Man’s Land between them. That was how it always started out: Bonnie would move towards him in fits and starts until she was as pressed up against him as she possibly could be. Most of the time they’d been here it had meant Bonnie woke up spooned against his thigh because he was on top of the sheets, but there _was_ the one memorable occasion that they’d woken up wrapped around each other.

Would they be starting off tomorrow in each other’s arms?

Damon turned onto his side and looked at her. The half of his brain that wasn’t dedicated to thinking of going home was concentrated on thinking of _that night_. They hadn’t touched enough to really call it fucking, but Bonnie had been right when she implied that they had managed just fine regardless; the smell of her arousal and the way she’d been grinding against him had certainly worked to get Damon over the line. He didn’t know if it was better or worse that they hadn’t kissed.

Maybe it was worse that Damon had _wanted_ to kiss Bonnie.

Before Bonnie’s mention of it tonight, they hadn’t discussed what had happened at all. It had made sense not to drink directly from each other now that they knew how heated it could get and Damon was doing his best not to miss it; if Bonnie wasn’t going to offer, neither was he. 

Even though they hadn’t explicitly discussed anything, Damon had a pretty good idea that Bonnie would share his sentiment that they should never, _ever_ tell Elena about it. Imagining how Elena would react was enough to make Damon break out in a cold sweat; she was nothing like Katherine, but she still had that same Petrova fire.

Whatever it was that he and Bonnie had done - fucking or not - it had stopped him from sleeping that night, and he hadn’t slept yesterday when they’d kidnapped Kai. _Someone_ had to listen to him waffle on for hours just in case he said something useful, and Bonnie had beaten Damon to the punch by passing out on the couch. Then Damon actually had to talk to Kai to stop him from staring at her like a creep, which was like running a marathon blindfolded. _While_ being shot at. 

Point was: he was tired.

Damon stretched his hearing and couldn’t find Kai in the house. With his annoying ability to shield his heartbeat and move silently, that could mean he was sleeping in the furthest room from them, or he could be posted up outside of Damon’s bedroom door, listening with a cup pressed against the wood.

Damon got an idea that made him grin. He looked over his shoulder at his bedroom door and tapped into the magic he could feel flowing through his veins. He had never needed to use an actual spell before so Damon just went with it, speaking quietly under his breath, “If the door is closed, Kai can’t hear us. If the door is closed, Kai can’t hear us. If the door is closed -”

If Kai could touch someone and leech their magic, did that mean he’d be able to take Damon’s made-up spell right off of the wood? Just in case, Damon tried to concentrate the spell on the inside of the door as much as he could. The spell settled around them and Damon’s ears popped. Bonnie twitched in her sleep, a frown crossing her face, as hers must have done the same. Now if Kai wanted to spy on them he’d have to announce himself by breaking down the door first.

Then Damon had an awful thought. What if Kai was playing some sick game with them, and he’d been able to leech the spell off of the house this entire time? It would explain why he had enough juice to shield his heartbeat even before he’d touched Bonnie to steal her magic; he had said that he couldn’t generate any magic himself, so he was getting it from _somewhere_.

Kai had asked Damon if he and Bonnie were fucking, and there was a chance he knew that they _were_. Or that they _had_ , Damon didn’t really know how to qualify it. Dread filled Damon. How could he tell Bonnie that? Kai was a creep who had invaded their privacy, careful to break into the house only when the spell was down so they got lulled into a false sense of security when it was active.

Worrying about just how much Kai knew could keep Damon awake all night, but they could also be going home tomorrow. They would have a better chance of outsmarting Kai if Damon was well-rested. 

As Damon was closing his eyes he realized that they actually had something useful to tell Enzo now. He assumed that Bonnie had only shared a dream with Enzo that one time, considering she hadn’t mentioned seeing him again after her nap on the couch. They could share a dream with Enzo tonight and get an update on how everyone was doing before letting him know that they had an avenue to get home. It was a crazy avenue, but it was an avenue all the same.

Bonnie shifted again, this time close enough that her outstretched hand touched the sensitive skin of Damon’s inner arm. Damon didn’t shift away from the touch because it was reassuring, like Bonnie could sense his rioting thoughts and was telling him to relax. He smiled and gave into the sensation of sleep dragging him under.

Tomorrow, they could finally be going home for real.

\--

Damon didn’t share a dream with Enzo like he might have expected he would. 

Enzo featured in Damon’s dreams, sure, but in a strange and tangential sort of way: it was like being able to hear his voice, but only from a distance. Damon thought he could smell blood, maybe, and grunts like someone was in pain. Something was wrong; for reasons he didn't understand worry sat like a knot in Damon’s chest and he tried to call out to Enzo and got no response, squinting against the murkiness of the dream. No matter where he went Damon couldn’t find Enzo, or Bonnie, though he felt like she was there, out of sight and reach. Just when Damon thought that Enzo’s voice was getting closer, louder, he jerked awake. 

The first thing that Damon became aware of was the fact that he couldn’t see. 

That was concerning, of course, before he realized he could smell his own shampoo. Damon pulled his face back an inch or two and saw that he was curled around Bonnie, and the darkness that had been so confusing was actually a mass of her hair in front of his face. That led Damon to the realization that the warmth against his hand was actually the skin of Bonnie’s stomach where he was touching it underneath that godforsaken shirt of hers, and the numbness in his other arm was because her head was resting on it. 

“Ow.” 

Damon clenched the hand of his crushed arm into a fist and stretched his fingers out but didn’t move his arm out from underneath her, in case the dream she was having was more productive than his had been. 

Bonnie shifted slightly against him and Damon’s hand involuntarily clenched against her stomach before her heart rate suddenly skyrocketed and Damon froze, because he had an idea about what had woken her up. It had been a while, and he was a little rusty: how did one casually pull away from a bed partner when there was morning wood involved, and fucking wasn’t an immediate solution? Just that slight shift against him and Damon wanted to thrust forward. 

Bonnie saved him the trouble of figuring out what to do by getting out of bed entirely and Damon released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, moving to sit with his back to the headboard and adjusting the sheets daintily over his… problem. 

The morning sun lit Bonnie’s silhouette as she stretched with her arms above her head and even though he had to squint against the glare of it, Damon still found himself admiring the shape of her; that pyjama shirt fit Bonnie _really_ well, riding up her stomach even as it was molded to the soft roundness of her chest. The little shorts she was wearing had ridden up during the night and when she turned slightly Damon could see more of her ass than he couldn’t. If they ever did get out of this place, he might just have to send Mama Bennett a gift basket. 

Considering Bonnie could probably feel his eyes on her, Damon didn’t bother feigning innocence when Bonnie dropped her arms back down and spun on her feet to look at him; instead, Damon smirked at her. It was only half-surprising when Bonnie smirked back. He had to keep reminding himself that she wasn’t the innocent little lamb that he’d initially mistaken her for. She had _teeth_ , and Damon had felt them once already. Damon didn’t feel like he could be blamed for the way his dick twitched, precum staining the sheets.

It was pretty much impossible to look away from her. Damon might have told her that she looked gorgeous as a vampire - and she really, really did - but he would have been lying if he said Bonnie wasn’t just as gorgeous now, hair messy about her head and pillow creases on her face. The tiny shorts and tight shirt helped too, of course. Damon’s problem wasn’t exactly going away on its own. 

Bonnie’s eyes traveled over Damon, lingering at his lap for long enough that he wanted to squirm, before she caught his gaze. “Don’t worry, I won’t take that personally,” and the smirk she was still wearing grew, like she knew exactly how hard - heh - he was struggling not to say something inappropriate about just how, exactly, she could _take it_. Bonnie walked into the bathroom, the faint scent of her arousal trailing behind her, and Damon was halfway off of the bed to follow her before he caught himself. 

Fucking hell. 

Just because they both agreed that the other night shouldn’t have happened didn’t mean they couldn’t do whatever it was that they did. Flirted, bantered, whatever you wanted to call it. Surely it was harmless? It was definitely fun. But Damon was feeling more and more like this whole thing with Bonnie wasn’t too dissimilar to juggling knives.

The throbbing of his dick was no less insistent now that Bonnie had left the room and Damon wanted to touch himself so badly but there was no way he could do that without Bonnie hearing him; it wasn’t a turn off, but it _was_ dangerous. Too much like toeing the line. He could hear the shower running and it was a struggle not to think of the naked Bennett witch in his bathroom, something that Damon could pretty accurately visualize considering he’d actually _seen her naked_. 

For something to do, Damon jumped out of bed to get dressed for the day and like it realized it wouldn’t be getting any attention, his dick started to calm down. As he was doing up the button of his jeans he sent _did_ _you dream share with Enzo?_ in Bonnie’s direction without giving her an insight to his emotions - lust, mostly - at the same time.

Damon snorted when he heard Bonnie slip in the shower and catch herself on the tiles; he must have startled her. Or were her thoughts going in directions they shouldn’t be as well? Damon had no way of knowing because her mental walls didn’t drop even when she sent back _sort of? I knew he was there but I couldn’t see him. I could smell blood._

Well, that didn’t bode well if it wasn’t just a weird dream that only Damon experienced. If Bonnie had seen - felt? - it too, did that mean something was going on with Enzo? At any rate it meant that they had no way of getting a message to him before they got the fuck out of this place. It’d just have to be a surprise for everyone. 

In a way Damon enjoyed that idea: he couldn’t wait to find Elena and watch her face as she saw him again. God, he couldn’t wait to _kiss her_.

Damon and Bonnie’s connection might be open, but it felt different to before. Obviously it was getting easier for them both to send thoughts to each other without exposing themselves completely; Damon could feel that his emotions were still hidden from her, and he couldn’t hear any thoughts that Bonnie didn’t deliberately send his way. It meant that it would be easier to scheme about Kai. Even if Kai was playing some type of long con and he had been able to spy on them regardless of the spell on the house, he still couldn’t get into their heads.

They were all playing a game, in a way, only the rules weren’t very well defined. Kai maybe knew more than he was letting on and Bonnie and Damon both had some cards up their sleeves. In the game of Let’s Get the Fuck Out of Here, who would win? Damon was ready to make sure it was him and Bonnie. That was hard when they didn’t know exactly how Kai’s whole magic sucking act worked, though. 

All Damon knew for sure was that Kai had to touch them to leech their magic; stay away from him, and he couldn’t do that.

The shower clanked as Bonnie turned off the taps and Damon realized that she hadn’t taken any clothes in with her. Unless Damon really wanted to play with fire he had better make himself scarce. He finished getting dressed before he unlocked his bedroom door and opened it, relieved to see that Kai wasn’t waiting on the other side. Small blessings.

Damon whooshed downstairs and started making breakfast. Now that he’d said goodbye to Gail, he didn’t feel compelled to make pancakes quite so much as he had before. They still had eggs and Damon knew that Bonnie had liked the omelet he’d made her before, so he got them out of the fridge and turned the stovetop on. Just as he was flipping an omelet stuffed with peppers, cheese and onion, Bonnie walked into the room. She was wearing a flowy white tank top and jeans, with one of his plaid shirts thrown over the top. 

A thread of possessiveness wound its way through Damon and he wasn’t proud of it at the same time as he knew he couldn’t help it. He liked seeing Bonnie in his clothes, smelling of his shampoo, reaching out for him. Damon just didn’t really understand why yet.

Bonnie looked around and saw that Kai wasn’t in the room with him and visibly relaxed, coming over to Damon at the kitchen counter to get out the knives and forks. She made a happy noise when she saw what Damon was cooking and he grinned. She only put down two sets of cutlery on the table and the pettiness of it almost made Damon laugh.

_Where is he?_

Damon looked at Bonnie and shrugged. _No clue. He’s still shielding his heartbeat._

No doubt Kai would show up when they least expected it. In the interest of getting out of the house and home to his girl sooner rather than later, Damon hurried up. When he gave Bonnie her plate and sat down across from her Damon found his legs parting automatically as he cut into his omelet and Bonnie put her legs between his almost straight away. 

Right on cue: “You two are so cute.”

Their legs knocked together when they both flinched at Kai’s sudden appearance in the doorway. Bonnie tensed up so quickly it was almost comical and Damon opened their connection more so that he could send calming vibes her way. If Kai tried to take her magic forcibly again Damon was ready to rip his arms off of his body, ‘teammates’ be damned. Bonnie shot a small smile Damon’s way and relaxed in her seat slightly. 

Damon thought they were in the clear for avoiding any bloodshed over breakfast, but then Bonnie got a strange look on her face. “Kai, are you left-handed or right-handed?”

Oh, this couldn’t be going anywhere _not_ violent. Damon looked over his shoulder at Kai and saw that he was wearing an expression that could be described as ‘cautiously bemused’. “I’m right-handed,” and Kai looked between them, a nervous smile flitting across his face before his expression settled into something more neutral, more wary. “Why?”

Damon looked back at Bonnie in time to see her nod strangely, barely a millisecond before the sound of cracking bones filled the room. Kai screamed out in pain and Damon had no idea what was going on. Had Bonnie just broken Kai’s fucking hand? 

“Oh, motherfucker! What the fuck, Bonnie!” Kai’s eyes were watering with the pain and he went to cradle his broken hand and stopped himself; he was only going to make things worse by touching it. Kai’s fingers were bent and misshapen and it was honestly kind of gross. Impressive, but gross.

Bonnie’s heartbeat was racing and Damon squeezed her knees between his own, tense in his seat. If Kai was about to go apeshit on them, Damon had to be ready to launch. When Bonnie spoke, Damon couldn’t help but be reminded of what he’d said to Kai just yesterday. “If you ever touch me again… if you _ever_ steal my magic from me again? Your hand will be the last thing you have to worry about.”

Damon felt in awe of her - a little turned on, even - and not for the first time. 

Kai didn’t respond, choosing to continue swearing as he looked down at his hand. He held his uninjured hand above it and muttered to himself in a language that Damon didn’t recognize and there was a second wave of cracking noises in the room as Kai’s fingers realigned themselves. Hand back to normal, Kai blew out a breath. “ _Ouch_. That was really rude, Bonnie. Not very sporting at all.”

Bonnie bared her teeth - her human teeth - at Kai and went back to ignoring his existence. Damon realized that Bonnie’s display of anger and power had a dual purpose: now they knew that Kai still had some of her magic stored away, or she’d forced him to use the last of it to heal himself. Damon squeezed Bonnie’s legs with his own to get her attention. _Smart move, Bon._

Bonnie grinned at him, carrying on with eating her omelet like nothing had ever happened. _Thanks. This is really good, by the way._

Damon smiled back at her, happy to provide. 

They ate their breakfast and paid no more attention to Kai, who left the room for a while to do who knew what. Damon was only mildly concerned when he came back with a shovel and a pickaxe. Kai was dressed in different clothes that he must have stolen from somewhere in the house, and he leant his haul against the wall so he could twirl the ascendant in his hands. How could that hunk of metal get them home? 

Bonnie sent another thought his way: _Come on. The sooner we figure out how to ditch him and get home, the better._

Hard to argue with that. They threw their dishes in the sink - there was no sense washing up if they weren’t coming back - and when Damon saw that Kai was stuffing a backpack with snacks like a squirrel hoarding for winter he realized that if they were really about to be going home, they could probably stand to pack a few things too. 

A single nod at Bonnie and she seemed to guess at what he meant without Damon having to send a thought her way at all, leaving the room and whooshing upstairs while Kai was distracted to get stuff together for them both. In no time at all she came back with their bags and they set out into the warmth of the day.

Kai had said he knew where they needed to be to harness the power of the eclipse, but with said eclipse being notoriously unreliable Damon had a feeling that they really had to move if they wanted to get to wherever that was in time. Once Kai was a safe distance away, twigs and leaves crunching underneath his feet as he trampled through the forest, Damon started walking after him with Bonnie at his side. 

There was so much that they could be saying that they ended up not saying much at all, just walking beside each other and trying to keep an eye on Kai at the same time. It was more difficult to do than Damon would have liked; Kai moved fast. They’d been walking for ten minutes or so when Bonnie broke the silence. “What’s the first thing you’re going to do when we get back?”

She couldn’t have asked Damon an easier question. “I’m gonna treat my girl to dinner and a movie… or maybe skip the dinner and a movie, and go straight to the good part.” Damon danced with his arms in the air, the move very hip heavy. Bonnie snorted a laugh but didn’t say anything else. He nudged her with his shoulder. “What about you? Got anything planned for your reunion with Little Gilbert?”

Bonnie stopped walking and Damon stumbled to a stop beside her. What had he said? Bonnie was visibly upset, her eyes shining. She wasn’t sending her thoughts in his direction but Damon didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know he’d made a wrong move by bringing up Jeremy. “Bon, what -”

“I have to break up with him.”

Damon immediately felt faint and his thoughts started rushing in a million directions. “Not… because of me?”

He had absolutely no idea what he would do if Bonnie said yes. Bonnie _knew_ that he loved Elena. And he did, Damon really did, but this last week… his feelings for and about Bonnie were so muddled and confusing that it hurt his brain to think about it for longer than five seconds; it’s why Damon had just been acting on instinct this entire time. If he wanted to touch Bonnie he just did it without questioning why. 

“No!” The urge was there, but Damon stopped himself from listening for a jump in her heartbeat that would tell him if she was lying. Sometimes knowing was more trouble than it was worth and her heartbeat had been so staggered lately that Damon probably wouldn’t have been able to spot a lie, anyway. “No. Even before the Other Side tore itself apart, the way I felt about Jeremy wasn’t the same.” A tear slid down Bonnie’s cheek and she swiped at it almost angrily. “I love him, but not in the way I used to, you know? I’m not _in_ love with him.”

What could he really say to that? If that was how Bonnie felt, that was how Bonnie felt. 

Damon reached out to poke her arm, hard enough to make her sway a little. She swatted at him. “It’s probably a good thing.” Shock replaced the sadness in Bonnie’s expression and Damon had to bite his lip to suppress the laugh that wanted to burst out of him. “It’s a bit weird to be fucking your best friend’s little brother, isn’t it?” 

Bonnie groaned and walked past him, following the faint sound of Kai crashing through the forest ahead. Damon laughed to himself before he walked after her. She could complain all she liked, but Damon could tell that she felt better already. Giving voice to her feelings was probably a good thing. 

Damon liked to think his dumb comment had also helped. 

They walked for what felt like forever and Damon was certain they were going in circles. It had seemed safer to avoid Kai so they’d been giving him a wide berth for at least the last half hour, yet he still managed to make them jump by walking out from behind a tree just as they walked into a clearing. Fucking silent heartbeat. 

Kai grinned and pointed the ascendant towards the sky, squinting against the glare. “The eclipse will happen directly overhead, in perfect alignment with the Gemini constellation.” Gemini Coven, Gemini constellation. Damon could see the theme. Kai pointed at him. “You’ll need to dig into the tunnels below us and we’ll do the spell from there.”

Damon could practically hear it when Bonnie rolled her eyes, her contempt for Kai’s entire existence obvious to everyone but Kai, apparently. “ _Why?_ ”

Voice heavy with sarcasm, Kai asked, “Wait, have you never portal jumped through an eclipse before?” Bonnie coiled even tighter beside Damon and he moved closer to her so their sides were pressed together, trying to get her to chill out. Kai laughed. “Look, the light of the eclipse will shine down and activate the ascendant. You spout a little of your witchy woo woo and _poof!”_ He made what looked like an explosion with his hands. “Anyone who’s standing in the circle of light and holding the ascendant will go home.”

Damon heard the loophole in that. You had to be touching the ascendant _and_ in the magical circle of light to go home? Suddenly excluding Kai sounded a whole lot easier. Bonnie sighed. “And by ‘witchy woo woo’, I assume you mean the spell that you haven’t shown me yet?”

“All in good time, Bon-Bo -” Damon glared at Kai. “ _Bonnie_.” With another manic grin he walked forward to shove between them and Bonnie had to put a hand against a tree to stop herself from toppling over. Damon turned and watched as Kai began to fade into the distance, walking off like he had somewhere to be. 

“Where are you going?” Damon had to shout it, Kai was moving so quickly. 

Over his shoulder, Kai shouted back, “Into town! I need to gather some important supplies,” which sounded annoyingly ominous coming from an admitted serial killer. 

Damon looked at Bonnie and shrugged, picking up the shovel and the giant pickaxe that Kai had managed to hide on his person this entire time, and started what he was sure was going to be the painfully slow process of digging into the tunnels below them. Bonnie found a stump to sit on and watched him work. 

“You could help, you know?” Another shovel full of dirt thrown over his shoulder, and a wipe of his face with the corner of his shirt. The fabric rode up and Bonnie was definitely ogling him. She was only human. Or, mostly human. Semantics. “Vampire strength?”

Bonnie kicked her feet against the stump and smiled beatifically at him. “Yeah, but Kai doesn’t know that. Can’t have him asking questions if he comes back to find things going a lot quicker than he’d anticipated, can we?”

Damon grimaced and hoped that Bonnie would assume he was complaining about the manual labour, and not worried about the likelihood that Kai actually knew all of their little secrets. He was impossible to get a read on and Damon had no idea if they were in the clear or not; Kai was exactly the type of person who would act completely oblivious about something until the last moment.

The sun was beaming down on them and it didn’t take long before Bonnie got up to shrug off his plaid shirt to tie it around her waist. Damon felt like he’d been digging the hole all day - only his head was poking out - and he had no idea how much longer he’d be digging before they hit the tunnels below. Bonnie moved to watch his progress from the edge of the hole and Damon swung the pickaxe over his shoulder and brought it down as hard as he could. 

The rock below him gave with a shudder, the sound of it hitting the floor below with an echoing _thunk_ arriving at his ears moments later. Damon looked up at Bonnie with a grin to see that Kai was standing over her shoulder. Damon’s smile dropped off of his face and Bonnie turned around and when she found Kai so close she moved to the opposite side of the hole with the tiniest burst of vampire speed. 

Kai was too pleased to notice, or so Damon let himself hope. “Looks like I got back just in time!”

Damon could see that Kai’s backpack had more stuff in it than it had before. He whooshed up out of the hole and snatched it from Kai’s hands, unzipping it to find… a menagerie of nonsense. Who the fuck was this guy? “Zime, grunge, every Alex Rodriguez rookie card known to man… a pager? Who the fuck has a pager?”

Instead of reaching for the bag, Kai only smirked at Damon. “Five-five-five-hi-Kai, no way I’m giving those digits up!”

Incredulity was flowing through Damon. Kai had been gone for _hours_. “ _These_ are the supplies that you were so desperate to get?”

“Look, the future sounds great. I’m sure I’ve missed a lot. But 1994 has been my home for a long time and I’d hate to get homesick. So let’s get down there -”

Bonnie spoke from behind the safety that the hole provided. “We’ve never asked you, Kai. How long do you think you’ve been here?”

The question confused Kai, and Damon realized that of course it would: he and Bonnie were wearing clothes from the 90s, and it wasn’t like their phones had been working since they’d been here. Time moved weirdly in this place, days over in what felt like only a handful of hours. Kai rocked back on his heels and tilted his head like he was really considering his answer. 

“I don’t know, five years? Eight? I stopped counting when it started to depress me.”

Jesus christ. There was no way that Damon was ever going to feel bad for Kai, but the Gemini Coven had done a number on him with this whole prison world schtick and he didn’t even know it. Then Damon wanted to throw up; he and Bonnie had been here for just over a week, but would time translate directly into the real world? How long had they been gone, really? 

Bonnie must not have made the same connection because she made a noise that sounded equal parts surprised and delighted. “Kai, you’ve been trapped here for _twenty years_.”

For a pretty tan guy, Kai sure lost color quickly. 

Damon was genuinely worried that Kai was about to hurl and considering he’d be in the splash zone if that happened Damon took a cautious step backwards. After what felt like forever, Kai shrugged and grinned; it looked completely wrong on his face. “All the more reason to get going!”

“I don’t think so,” Bonnie moved closer, so that she was standing right in front of Kai, and Damon had to physically stop himself from standing in between them. That strange part of him that flared up whenever Bonnie and Kai got too close was going bananas right now; she wasn’t safe so near to Kai, not after dropping that bomb on him. “We’re not going anywhere until you show me the spell.”

Kai rocked back on his heels again. “Ooookay.”

And then he didn’t say anything else, or do anything else, besides look between Bonnie and Damon with a close-mouthed grin on his face. Damon wanted to kill him so badly. “Are we _literally_ not going anywhere?”

Bonnie let out a heavy sigh and Damon wondered if he was going to have to hold her back from exacting more violence against Kai. Should he even hold her back? He’d enjoyed watching her so much the first time. But Damon had a feeling that Bonnie felt _smug_ right now.

“Fine. If you won’t show me the spell, you can do it yourself. You want my magic to get out of here? Take it.” Bonnie held out her arm and Damon had no idea where this was going to go, because she had only just told Kai how badly that would end for him if he tried it again. 

Instead of reaching for her, Kai pulled a face. “Uh-oh. She’s being brave!” Damon thought _Kai_ was being _stupid_ , toying with Bonnie when she was in a mood, but who was Damon to say anything? Bonnie pulled her arm back to her side and Damon relaxed, but only marginally.

“I’m serious, Kai. This was your big threat, right? If I don’t do the spell to get us out of here, you’ll just take my magic and leave us for dead, right? That’s what you said?” Kai barely blinked as he looked at her. “Go ahead! Take all of it.”

Silence. Then Kai looked at Damon over Bonnie’s shoulder and grinned, manic. “Don’t mind if I do!” The slap of his hands on Bonnie’s bare arms was loud but Damon barely heard it over the sound of her groaning in pain. Kai’s hands were glowing, Bonnie’s magic was flowing out of her, and Damon didn’t know what to _do_. 

“Bonnie -”

“It’s okay, Damon. He won’t kill me. He can’t.”

“It doesn’t look like that from here!”

Kai tightened his hold on her and Bonnie shouted in agony, her thoughts rushing into Damon’s head when the pain she was feeling stopped her from keeping her walls up. _It hurts, it hurts, it hurts - it’s okay, Damon, he won’t kill me. He can’t. OW -_

That certainly wasn’t making Damon feel any better. “Bonnie! Hey, woah, guys - STOP!” Kai let go of Bonnie and she stumbled backwards. Damon caught her with his hands on her arms - right where Kai’s had been - and her skin was hot, almost burning. At least this time he could still feel Bonnie in his head; Kai hadn’t leeched enough of her magic to break their connection a second time.

Kai’s eyes were intense on Bonnie and they were both breathing heavily; Damon was a little uncomfortable. He knew that Bonnie hated Kai - he didn’t need to hear her thoughts for that - but Kai always looked at her like he was imagining her with her clothes off. Damon could relate to that, but at least he wasn’t _obvious_ about it.

Bonnie leaned back into the hold Damon still had on her arms. “He hasn’t told me the spell because he _doesn’t know it_.” Any smugness that Kai might have had on his face disappeared and Damon could see him shift on his feet, like he was getting ready to run. “Which means we don’t need him. _Modus."_

The word at the end threw Damon until he saw the pickaxe he’d been using to dig into the tunnels come sailing past them to lodge itself deep in Kai’s chest, straight through his heart. Kai made a disturbing gurgling sound and fell to his knees, dead before he hit the ground. _Jesus_.

Damon didn’t have a name for the feeling rushing through his body when Bonnie turned to look at him. For a lack of any way to get that feeling out that didn’t involve setting anything on fire - Damon could feel every ounce of his magic directly underneath the surface of his skin, desperate to get out - he pulled Bonnie into a tight hug. She squeezed him back, only for a moment, then pulled away.

“I’ve got an idea.”

Their bags were sitting on the other side of the hole and Bonnie went over to hers, pulling the grimoire out and opening it to the page about the ascendants. Damon leant against a tree and watched her in between rifling through Kai’s bag again.

Almost like she was talking to herself Bonnie muttered, “What kind of prison gives its only inmate a key? It doesn’t make sense. Maybe Kai was being literal when he said he needed _my_ magic.” She looked over at Damon, where he was busy drinking whatever fruity ass booze Kai had stashed in his bag. It tasted surprisingly good, but he didn’t know if he was buzzed or not... which meant he definitely was. “I think the Gemini Coven used a Bennett spell to create this place and that’s why my Grams sent us here.”

That… actually made a certain amount of sense. Damon nodded so Bonnie knew he was at least sober enough to listen.

“The last thing my Grams said to me was to stay strong. Was that her way of telling me that I had the power to get out? I have the ascendant and a massive celestial event to draw from, if the eclipse actually happens today... “ Bonnie cut herself off and looked down at the ascendant. She whispered some words that Damon had no hope of understanding and the ascendant shifted in her hand, part of its mechanical inner-workings shifting so that it opened up like a flower.

When Bonnie smiled, she glowed like the sun. “That’s why he couldn’t kill me. I was his only way out of here.” She got up and started to slide down the edge of the hole and Damon lurched after her. 

“Whoa, where are you going?”

Bonnie paused to grin at him, one eyebrow raised. “Home. You coming?”

Damon looked overhead to see the sun was high and bright in the sky. It must be close to noon, which meant if the eclipse was playing ball it would be happening sooner rather than later. When he heard a thud Damon looked back down and almost had a heart attack, because Bonnie was gone. He could still hear her heartbeat so Damon assumed she’d just used her vampire juice to jump down the rest of the way. Damon dropped his bottle on the ground and followed her down.

The tunnels were… tunnels. It was dark and damp, smelled vaguely of mildew, and Bonnie was standing in the shaft of light provided by the hole Damon had created and cutting a bloody line through her palm with the sharp end of the ascendant. Damon had _questions_.

“What are you doing?”

Bonnie didn’t look at him as she held her hand above the ascendant to let her blood trickle over the top of it. “Bennett spell, Bennett blood.” She repeated the same incantation she’d used earlier and this time the ascendant whirred a little more insistently and opened up further. Damon felt his eyebrows climbing up his forehead. He had a good feeling about this. Bonnie knew what she was doing and they were really about to get out of here, weren’t they?

Dirt crunched underneath his feet as he moved closer to her. The eclipse couldn’t be far off now, which meant their lives would be changing again soon. Would they ever be as close to each other - literally or otherwise - back in the real world as they were now? Bonnie watched as he cradled her hand with his own and asked, “like this?”

Bonnie smiled at him and Damon felt it down in his toes. “Yeah.”

They’d only been here just over a week - maybe much longer, but he was trying not to think about that - yet so much had happened between them. Damon remembered what Bonnie had said to him just before the Other Side had exploded and he smiled at her, though it felt a little sad. “I’m sure there are a million other people you’d rather be here with.”

It was meant as a joke but Bonnie looked at him in such a way that Damon felt pinned in place. Their connection was mostly closed but he felt like his swelling emotions must be pushing at the edge of Bonnie’s consciousness anyway, they felt so strong in his own head. Her voice was barely above a whisper when she answered him. “Not exactly.”

Damon opened his mouth to reply but there was a strange noise behind them, almost like compressed air, followed quickly by the smell of blood as Bonnie stumbled backwards and collapsed on the ground.

There was an arrow sticking out of her stomach and Damon was so shocked he was frozen, a feeling that quickly dissipated when he heard Kai’s voice. He was supposed to be _dead_.

“Forgetting someone?” Damon forced himself to take his eyes off of Bonnie and look at Kai, who was holding a fucking _crossbow_. “Did you really think I hadn’t tried to kill myself before? I have. Many times, many ways. Death by pickaxe barely makes the top ten.” Kai reached to grab another arrow and Damon looked over his shoulder at Bonnie. She was clutching at her stomach and grunting in pain and Damon didn’t know what he should be concentrating on right now. 

The ascendant was on the ground and Damon glanced at it, weighing the pros and cons of lunging for it. “Grab that and the next arrow goes in her heart,” and Kai pointed the reloaded crossbow at Bonnie to emphasize his threat.

That was a pretty big con. Damon could smell Bonnie’s blood, but not as much of it as he might have expected if she were completely human; something told Damon that her vampire perks - maybe her vampire _nature_ \- were helping her right now.

It wouldn’t hurt to make sure, though. _Bon, you okay?_

_That fucking hurt_ \- a grunt of pain - _but I’m telling my body to heal and I think it’s listening._

Huh. They should have tried that with her foot, though that hadn’t been nearly as life-or-death at the time. Even if Bonnie could get her body to heal quicker, an arrow to the heart was probably pushing it. How could they play this? Their only option was to get Kai away from his crossbow; that must have been the real reason he went into town, though Damon had no idea where he’d been storing it. Kai was a resourceful motherfucker, that’s for sure.

When Bonnie sent another thought his way, Damon had to fight not to smile. 

_Come to me, like you’re choosing to heal me instead of to leave. Kai will go for the ascendant and he’ll have to drop the crossbow._

Damon did what Bonnie told him, whooshing to her side to yank the arrow out because it wouldn’t be fun to heal around before he moved like he was about to bite into his wrist. A little extra blood would probably help her heal quicker than she could manage on her own - had her pained grunts been entirely for show? - but Damon didn’t get the opportunity to test that because Kai did exactly what Bonnie had predicted he would and dropped the crossbow to run for the ascendant. 

Damon whooshed right back over and grabbed him, pinning Kai against one of the cave walls and making sure to hit his back against the stone as hard as he could. Just because Bonnie wasn’t going to die didn’t mean that Damon wasn’t really fucking pissed off. 

Kai grunted in pain but squirmed against the hold Damon had on him, procuring an arrow from _somewhere_ and stabbing Damon shallowly in the side with it. God, he was such an _ass_. The tunnel started to darken around them and they were running out of time as Kai grappled with him, trying to sink the arrow into his skin even deeper.

“ _Modus!_ ”

Kai went flying further into the tunnels and Damon yanked the arrow out of his side with a wheeze before he looked over his shoulder to see Bonnie standing in the shaft of quickly dimming light, bloodied but mostly whole. She had the ascendant in her hand and a grin on her face and the way that Damon felt about her was so big and overwhelming that he couldn’t put a name on it. He whooshed to her side and gripped her hand like he had before. 

Did she have to say a spell, or would it just happen?

Like the Universe wanted to answer him, Damon felt a strange sucking sensation over his whole body. Bonnie’s delighted laugh told him she was feeling the same thing, as did her shout of _it’s working!_ in his head. The room filled with bright white light and a ringing noise that was so deafening that Damon didn’t hear Kai when he yelled and jumped in their direction. Kai knocked into Damon and he stumbled but stayed firm, fucking determined to get out of this place even if it was the last thing that he did. 

Before the light surrounding them flashed even brighter and the room went silent around them, the last thing Damon saw was the bright green of Bonnie’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're free, baby! Time to get into the real meat of the fic... I hope you're all as excited as I am! 
> 
> Come chat with me on twitter [@bonbennetts](https://twitter.com/bonbennetts) and as always my tumblr is [@bonbennett](https://bonbennett.tumblr.com/) 💞


	15. until it ends, there is no end

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otherwise titled 'Damon's No Good, Very Bad Day'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from 'All Through the Night' by Sleeping at Last.

**damon -**

For a moment, Damon felt like he was suspended in nothingness, only vaguely aware of Bonnie in front of him; he couldn’t see her, but he could feel her in his head. And just as quickly as that feeling manifested it disappeared, replaced by the sensation of falling from a great height with no parachute. Even though he still couldn’t see Damon tried to wrap his free arm around Bonnie to pull her closer to him, bracing for what was shaping up to be a pretty fucking awful fall. 

Though his brain felt slightly scrambled right now, Damon couldn’t forget that Kai had managed to attach himself like a limpet to Damon’s back before the Prison World had - hopefully - sucked them back to their world. The only thing he could do was cross his fingers that Kai hadn’t managed to get a hand on the ascendant in time, because if he _had_ and Damon was about to land somewhere he could actually kill Kai permanently? He was really going to do it.

If Bonnie didn’t get there before him, of course.

Just when Damon was beginning to think that they’d be falling forever, there was a boom of noise like lightning striking the ground somewhere worryingly closeby and moments later Damon landed on what he hoped was solid ground hard enough to fracture his back in several places. The pressure against his front told him that he and Bonnie hadn’t been separated on the way down and he’d be grateful for that when he could breathe again.

If Damon had any luck at all, he would have crushed Kai beneath him when he landed. As it was, all he could feel at his back were twigs and rocks, and something that felt sort of soft and springy. Where the fuck were they? Maybe this whole thing had been some weird trip and he was about to open his eyes and find that they were still stuck in 1994 with a homicidal maniac. Damon forced himself to look anyway.

The first thing he noticed was that it was nighttime and the moon must be most of the way full because the tree branches overhead were illuminated, casting creepy shadows on the ground. The second thing that became obvious when Damon cautiously turned his head to the side was that they had landed exactly where they’d started out when the Other Side had ripped itself apart: the cemetery. There was no opportunity to panic that they were in the 1994 version of it, because the _air_ smelled different. Maybe that was just the pollution, but Damon had never been so happy to breathe rotten air in his life. 

Then noises startled to filter in: crickets, rabbits, the occasional bird. A _deer_. Damon was never going to think of them as food but it meant that they were really in the Mystic Falls where Bonnie wasn’t the only thing to eat. There was no sign of Kai, which wasn’t as reassuring as it should have been. But they were back, and that was what Damon was choosing to concentrate on.

One thing at a time, and all of that.

Bonnie groaned and shifted slightly on top of him, which brought Damon back to the more important issues at hand, namely the fact that part of the ascendant had definitely skewered him in the guts when he and Bonnie had pinned it between their bodies on their way back down to earth. It didn’t feel _good_. “Bonnie? You with me?” Another groan. Damon couldn’t smell any fresh blood that wasn’t his own, but that didn’t mean that Bonnie hadn’t hurt herself some other way when they’d landed. Damon was wheezing a little with every breath. “Can you sit up for me? Getting lightly stabbed at the moment.”

Because she was mean and Damon hated her, Bonnie managed to huff a weak laugh against his neck before she braced herself and somehow - rather impressively - managed to sit up in his lap without using her hands at all. It didn’t take Damon long to see why she’d decided to show off her core strength, because her collar bone was very obviously not sitting right. Damon could see the bone slowly shifting underneath her skin as it tried to heal itself, which was more than a little off putting. 

At least the skin through the bloody hole in her shirt was smooth and unblemished, like Kai had never shot her with an arrow at all. Without otherwise moving from his position lying down on the forest floor Damon bit into the meat of his wrist and held it up to her mouth and Bonnie didn’t need to be told twice, reaching out to grab his arm and drinking just enough of his blood to make her collar bone shift back into place with a sickening _snap_. 

Now that she could move without wincing, Bonnie yanked the ascendant out of his stomach with a gross squelch - Damon bit his lip to hold in his pained yell - and dropped it on the ground before she gestured at the slowly healing mess of the wound. “What about you?”

A quick internal check told Damon that he wasn’t exactly feeling his best right now; there was his stomach, of course, and the vertebrae of his back that weren’t exactly as aligned as they should be. He made a noise like he was considering his options and Bonnie rolled her eyes, lifting her wrist to her mouth to bite down. Damon had barely swallowed two mouthfuls - he could feel his bones shifting back into place and the hole in his stomach knitting itself together - when there was the sound of glass shattering from somewhere nearby.

Bonnie flinched hugely and Damon sat up so quickly that she had to scramble off of his lap or risk getting her nose broken. They both sank into the stillness unique to supernatural predators, their hearts and breathing slowing so they could hear better. Damon couldn’t hear a lot of anything and he looked to Bonnie and saw that she looked as confused as he felt. Not telling Bonnie about Kai immediately when they were in the Prison World hadn’t been his best idea and Damon didn’t want to make the same mistake again so he sucked in a quick breath and said, “I think Kai got out too.”

That got Damon a solid thump of Bonnie’s heartbeat in his ears: fear. When she looked at him she was obviously shocked, her disbelief plain on her face. Damon felt the same way. They had been so close to being free of him and yet here they were, back where they should be but with a serial killer on the loose. Damon fiercely hoped that the fall _had_ killed Kai and he said so. Bonnie didn’t look reassured, opening her mouth to say something when she froze again, her nose twitching in a way that reminded Damon of a bunny.

“Why can I smell bourbon?”

What? Damon tried to stretch his sense of smell as far as hers but couldn’t manage it. There was no sense asking Bonnie how she knew what bourbon _specifically_ smelled like, because she’d been around drinking Salvatores often enough to have a pretty good idea. Damon shrugged and stood up, reaching a hand out to pull Bonnie up beside him. He squeezed her hand once before letting go. “Should we go investigate?”

Bonnie considered it, looking around at the forest that surrounded them. Damon wondered if she was listening for Kai. After a minute or two she shrugged. “May as well, right? We can’t stay out here forever.”

They certainly couldn’t. They had friends and family to have epic reunions with, after all.

Damon picked the ascendant up off of the ground and found himself at a loss for places to store it. They might have packed bags before leaving but Kai had really thrown a spanner in the works by going all crazy man on them; they’d left their stuff behind. Considering Damon knew firsthand just how pointy it was, he didn’t exactly want to stuff it down his jeans. Beyond the spell he’d put on his door the night before, Damon hadn’t really used his magic since the ill-fated teleportation attempt. 

Now was as good a time as any to try again. Damon looked at the ascendant in his hands and imagined it in his nightstand at the Boarding House, making sure to add in as much detail as he could: the color of the wood, the other stuff that would be in the drawer with it. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again, the ascendant was gone. 

Damon had been able to feel Bonnie’s eyes on him the entire time and he could hear the surprise in her voice when she asked him where he’d sent it. Who knew, really. “My room, hopefully _now_ instead of 1994. If Kai got out with us, I don’t want him to have it. Seemed the safest spot.”

Bonnie nodded and started walking, presumably following her annoyingly accurate super sniffer to the bourbon smell she had mentioned. Damon took after her and marveled at the world around them as they walked. It didn’t really look all that different to 1994, save for the few extra headstones in the cemetery, but it felt completely different. It felt _right_. More right than it would have felt if they’d woken up to find themselves surrounded by flying cars and skyscrapers, which Damon had genuinely worried about once he realized just how fucked up the passage of time was in the Prison World.

They picked their way carefully through the forest and Damon tried not to think too hard about the fact that their ‘I’ll heal your wounds if you heal mine’ routine just now would have extended the time limit of their connection. It had only dropped out once on its own and Damon didn’t consider that a true test, considering how little they’d drunk from each other that first day. Now that they’d fed from each other again, however briefly, they wouldn’t have to find out how long it would take for their connection to disappear on its own for another day at least. 

Damon was happy that he’d have Bonnie in his head for whatever lay ahead.

When they walked into the clearing that housed the Salvatore crypt, the smell of bourbon that Bonnie had mentioned drifted into his nose. He could also hear someone sobbing, which meant he had more questions than answers. Bonnie looked at him and raised an eyebrow, a silent question asking Damon what they should do. Just as he went to take another step forward he heard something that made him freeze: a heartbeat he’d be able to recognize anywhere. 

Nothing could have stopped him from whooshing straight to the source.

Stefan was sitting inside the crypt, practically slumped over one of the benches. It wouldn’t have taken a detective to figure out where the strong alcohol smell was coming from because the remnants of the bourbon he’d obviously been drinking were dripping down one of the walls, glass a mess on the floor. When Stefan realized he wasn’t alone he moved his hands from his eyes and looked up, mouth dropping open when he saw Damon. Damon could feel Bonnie at his back and he was so happy he felt like he was going to float away. 

For old time’s sake, Damon spread his arms wide and smiled as big as his face would allow. “Hello, brother.”

 _Dork_ floated into his head, which Damon diplomatically ignored.

Rising to stand, Stefan looked like he’d seen a ghost or taken a bad batch of drugs; he really couldn’t believe that Damon was standing in front of him, that much was clear. He kept looking from Damon to Bonnie at his shoulder - Damon could smell the salt of her tears - like he really believed that they weren’t there, that he’d just drunk too much. That the Universe could be playing such a cruel trick on him. “Damon? How am I seeing you right now?”

Without a doubt Damon knew that they’d been gone longer than a week in their world. There was no way that Stefan would look so helpless, so lost, if they hadn’t been gone some significant length of time. Had it been months? A year? Even longer? Damon was almost too scared to ask. What if Elena had moved on from him and she was already happy with someone else? 

Stefan reached out, slow and cautious, to grip Damon’s shoulder. When his hand didn’t pass right through Damon he almost fell over, he looked so relieved. The moment felt so strange and unnatural that Damon was almost surprised that he could feel the touch and the tremor in Stefan’s hand at all as he tightened his hold on Damon. He and Bonnie weren’t ghosts; they were really here. “Yeah, Stef. It’s me.” Damon patted Stefan’s hand with his own and glanced pointedly at the pile of glass on the floor. “Why are you wasting good bourbon?”

The noise Stefan made was somewhere between a laugh and sob and he yanked Damon forward, crushing him in a hug tight enough that Damon thought he was genuinely in danger of having his back broken all over again. Damon wouldn’t have even cared; he had to close his eyes against the mass of emotion flowing through him. He might have missed Elena, but he had missed Stefan almost as much. Hard not to when they had been alive together for so long, even if they had spent a lot of that time at odds with each other.

They hugged for a long time - longer than they ever had - and when Stefan finally pulled away, his eyes were red from crying. “How? How are you both here right now?”

Damon shifted to the side so Stefan could get at Bonnie. His hug for her was almost as tight and Damon winced and had to stop himself from telling Stefan to be careful with her. Bonnie wasn’t as fragile as she might have been when they first landed in the Prison World and Damon had to remember that. Bonnie looked at him over Stefan’s shoulder - she must be up on the balls of her feet - tears making tracks down her face. 

_What do we tell him?_

That was a good question, and it was one that Damon didn’t have an answer to. How could they really tell Stefan, or anyone, exactly what had happened while they’d been gone? It felt insane that it had only been a week to them and so much had gone down. That didn’t even take into consideration the whole Kai situation, and the fact that they’d accidentally let him loose on the world. Depending on how long they’d _actually_ been gone there could be a lot that they had missed out on too.

In the end, Damon shrugged while Stefan couldn’t see him. To Bonnie he sent back _we’ll figure that out later._ To Stefan, he just said, “It’s a long story, brother. But we’re back.”

Stefan pulled away from Bonnie, who swiped at her tear stained cheeks, to look between them again. Damon remembered the bloody hole in Bonnie’s shirt at about the same time as Stefan noticed it and he felt his heart drop as Stefan reached out, moving the fabric around like he was looking for the wound. “What happened? Are you hurt?” Bonnie was wide-eyed when she looked from Stefan to Damon, obviously at a loss for what to say. ‘I had a semi-life threatening gut wound courtesy of a psychopath with a crossbow but I healed all by myself, don’t worry!’ wasn’t really an acceptable response. 

So Damon improvised. 

“Oh, you know how clumsy Bonnie is. She couldn’t see when we came to investigate your glass-breaking dramatics and she shanked herself on a branch,” and it was a good thing that Stefan was looking at Damon right now, because the glare Bonnie was shooting in Damon’s direction was pretty hilarious. “I healed her.” 

It was hard to concentrate on moderating his heartbeat but Damon tried at the same time as he prayed that Stefan was so happy to have them back and alive that he wouldn’t be looking for a lie. Damon was holding his breath and Bonnie looked like she was too; they’d have to tell Stefan and the others about Kai at some point, but Bonnie’s sudden vampire proclivities? Not so much.

After what felt like forever Stefan nodded and moved away from Bonnie, who visibly relaxed. The concern on Stefan’s face got replaced by a grin, like he was a kid in a candy store. “I was worried that you were gone for good, this time.”

“Yeah, well,” Damon shrugged and grinned back at him. “I promised you an eternity of misery, didn’t I?” And for once it actually made Stefan laugh to be reminded, Bonnie huffing in amusement as well now that Stefan wasn’t questioning her lack of an injury. Damon wondered how she felt about Stefan, knowing what he’d said to Damon back in the real 1994. Something told Damon that she was holding a bit of a grudge on his behalf, which made him feel weirdly warm. Like she cared about him. While that was nice, Damon only really had one thing on his mind. “Where’s everyone else? I wanna go see my girl.”

Damon had expected that Stefan would have been pleased for him but instead the joy fell right off of his face and he couldn’t meet Damon’s eyes. What was wrong? Was Elena hurt? Was… was Elena _dead_? Panic raced through Damon and he gripped Stefan’s arms, ducking his head until Stefan was forced to make eye contact. “Stefan, where’s Elena?”

Bonnie was tense with worry beside him and it was clear that Stefan felt awful about something, that whatever news he had wasn’t good. A million horrific scenarios were running through Damon’s head in grim technicolor and Stefan must have been able to tell because he shook his head frantically. “She’s fine! She’s fine. But…” Stefan took a deep breath and then let the next words rush out. “Missing you was killing her and she couldn’t handle the pain of it anymore. She asked Ric to compel away her feelings for you.”

Silence, broken only by Bonnie’s shocked gasp before she covered her mouth. 

She was crying again, and Damon felt like that was a good plan. When his legs didn’t want to support him anymore he collapsed onto the bench that Stefan had been occupying when they’d found him and covered his face with his hands. They had _definitely_ been gone longer than a week if that’s what Elena had resorted to. Bonnie moved closer and put a hand on his shoulder just like Stefan had and Damon covered it with his own, gripping onto her like a lifeline. 

When Bonnie took her hand off of him only moments later Damon looked up at her, wondering why she’d pulled away so quickly. Then Damon saw that Stefan was looking at them with clear surprise - shock, even - on his face and things started to make sense. Somehow Damon had forgotten that everyone would still expect he and Bonnie to hate each other and he wasn’t sure how well he’d be able to pretend after the last week they’d spent together. 

In a pretty blatant attempt to distract Stefan from asking questions Bonnie looked away from Damon completely. “Maybe you should give us a run down of what we’ve missed since we’ve been gone?”

If nothing else it would be an opportunity to figure out just how long they’d been gone without having to ask Stefan outright. Bonnie sat down next to Damon on the bench, one of her legs folded beneath herself so that her knee pressed against his thigh in a move that felt entirely deliberate; Damon was fiercely grateful for the touch. They watched as Stefan paced back and forth in front of them for a minute, then two. It was like so much had happened that he didn’t know where to start and Damon was terrified of what Stefan was going to tell them. Just as Damon was getting impatient - all he could think about was that Elena didn’t even _remember loving him_ \- and was about to throw something at Stefan when he finally sighed and turned to look at them directly.

“The first couple of months that you were gone...” Ah, there drops the shoe. “We followed every single lead that there was. Ric was researching constantly. I took Europe and Lexi took everywhere else -”

Wait, what? It felt rude to interrupt, but need’s must. “Lexi’s alive?” Damon looked at Bonnie and saw that she was pulling a strange face. He didn’t need to hear her thoughts to have an idea of what was going on. “You _knew_?”

Bonnie shrugged. “I brought her back when the Other Side was collapsing.” She looked away from him and shot a small smile towards Stefan. “I knew losing you would be hard for Stefan, and Lexi’s his best friend.”

Oh. Damon didn’t feel as justified in his shock and annoyance now. If nothing else, he’d have another opportunity to apologize to Lexi for… being himself, and acting rashly when he felt backed into a corner. The smile Stefan gave Bonnie in return was so openly grateful and Damon knew why: she didn’t have to do that for Stefan but Bonnie had done what she always did and thought of someone else’s needs before her own. Maybe if she hadn’t brought Lexi back, Bonnie would have had the strength to come back to the real world herself? And nothing that they experienced in the Prison World would have happened; Damon and Kai would probably just have killed each other on a repeating loop, forever.

Quietly, Damon was happy that things had worked out how they did. He gestured for Stefan to go on.

“Because Lexi and I were focused on finding out how to get you both back, Caroline dedicated herself to figuring out how to remove the anti-magic barrier on Mystic Falls. She hasn’t had any luck with that, either.”

God, fuck the Travelers so much. Elena didn’t remember that she loved him _and_ Damon couldn’t sleep in his own bed? What was next? Damon didn’t have to wait long at all for Stefan to add insult to injury: “I think Jeremy is staying at the Boarding House at the moment, so we might have to get it steam-cleaned once Caroline has figured the spell out.”

At the mention of Jeremy’s name, Bonnie shifted against Damon. Just because she didn’t love Jeremy anymore didn’t mean that Bonnie didn’t care about how he was doing since she’d been dead. Missing in action? Damon didn’t know which would be more appropriate. “Jeremy… how has he been since -” Bonnie made a strange movement with her hands that Damon assumed was meant to encapsulate ‘since we disappeared for an unknown length of time’.

Stefan’s expression turned grim. “Not great. He’s been training with Ric a lot, but other than that… he’s usually drunk before noon and uh,” they waited for Stefan to continue and he looked between them, clearly uncomfortable by whatever was about to come out of his mouth. “Uh, he’s been. Seeing some people.”

Well, that was a polite way of saying that Jeremy was probably no better than a walking STD by now. Damon shifted his leg so it was pressed more firmly against Bonnie’s knee; she had deflated next to him. He sent _it might be easier to break up with him then?_ her way but it didn’t stop her from looking quite so devastated like he would have liked it to.

They all jumped when Stefan’s phone rang. He glanced down at the caller ID and made a face when he saw who it was. He held his phone up to them: Caroline. “I’ll be right back.”

Stefan walked out of the crypt before Damon or Bonnie could say anything. What was there to say, anyway? They couldn’t exactly ask Stefan not to tell anyone they were alive and well. Elena might not care about Damon anymore, but he knew that she’d be elated to know that Bonnie was back from the dead for the second - third? Damon was losing track - time. 

Like she had just been waiting for Stefan to leave, Bonnie reached out to put her hand on his knee and squeezed. “Damon, I’m so sorry -” and Damon covered her hand with his own and shook his head. What was she apologizing for?

“You didn’t make Elena do it. And hey, it’s not the end of the world, right? Ric can remove the compulsion now that I’m back.” And Damon hoped with every part of himself that the words weren’t just wishful thinking. He was terrified that this could be forever and that Elena would never remember how she felt about him; that she wouldn’t _want_ to remember how she felt about him. Damon had once thought that their love was strong enough to withstand any obstacle, but getting Elena to love him all over again, when she only remembered the awful things that he’d done? That felt almost insurmountable.

Bonnie tilted her head to the side and moved her hand from Damon’s leg; Stefan walked back inside barely a second later. He was grinning. “Caroline and Elena are a little excited that you’re back, Bonnie. I’m not sure you have a choice but they’re coming to get you and it sounds like Caroline is planning on breaking a few laws to do it quickly.”

No mention of their feelings regarding Damon’s return from the dead, then. Damon had expected as much.

Bonnie looked between Stefan and Damon before she finally let the smile that was threatening at the corners of her mouth to take over her face. It looked like she wanted to cry all over again. Even if she hadn’t completely hated their time in the Prison World - Kai’s presence notwithstanding - Damon knew that Bonnie had still missed her best friends.

“No, that’s good.” Bonnie paused and Damon knew that she wanted to say something else; if he were to guess, he’d say that she had her scheming face on and he didn't have to wait long to be proven right when she said, “It’s been so long!”

Stefan nodded and grinned, rueful. “Who would’ve thought that four months could feel like years.”

 _Jesus_.

That answered that then. A week in the Prison World translated to four months outside. No wonder Kai had no idea how long he’d really been trapped over there for; time really did travel completely differently. Bonnie looked faintly woozy and Damon sympathized. Stefan had given them the barest rundown. What else had they missed? 

They sat in silence for a while, waiting. It had barely been ten minutes before there was a screech of tires somewhere in the distance, followed by insistent honking. Caroline and Elena had arrived and apparently Bonnie had to go to them. Was that just so Elena could avoid him? Damon didn’t want to think about it. Bonnie got up and dusted herself off, but didn’t immediately leave. Damon didn’t understand why and was just about to ask her over their connection when Bonnie pinned Stefan in place with a stare. 

“Look after him, okay? Don’t let him do anything stupid.”

Damon didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or pleased. On the one hand, Bonnie recognized that Damon felt pretty fucking awful right now and that didn’t usually lead to great decision making on his part, and she obviously cared enough about him to be concerned. On the other hand, she was implying that Stefan needed to babysit him. _Rude_.

Stefan took her seriously though, even if he did look more than a little surprised that Bonnie was remotely concerned for Damon’s well-being. He nodded. “I will.”

With one last look at Damon, Bonnie walked out of the crypt and made her slow way to Caroline’s car. She probably would have liked to whoosh right there but must have decided against it. Should they even tell the others that she had vampire abilities, and that Damon was way more witch than he’d like to be? Damon had no idea how to predict everyone’s reactions to those bits of information. 

Bonnie’s voice popped into his head. _Be good, okay? I mean it. Don’t do anything that you can’t come back from._

Damon scoffed and tried to turn it into a cough when Stefan looked at him weirdly. _Gee, thanks. I’m not that dramatic._

_Aren’t you?_

Damon hadn’t thought it was possible to laugh over their connection, but Bonnie just about managed it. Damon shook his head with a smile and looked up at Stefan, who was just staring at him like he still couldn’t believe that Damon was really there. There was the sound of opening doors and an astounding amount of excited screeching and crying before Caroline and Elena whisked Bonnie away and into the night.

It was weird, to hear Bonnie’s heartbeat gradually fade in his ears until he couldn’t hear it anymore. They’d spent the last week pretty much on top of each other - sometimes more literally than Damon would have expected - and he’d gotten used to being able to pinpoint her location with little effort. But they were home now, and things couldn’t be like they were. Damon would have to keep reminding himself of that.

As much as he’d like to stay right where he was all night, Damon’s ass was going numb from the stone bench and there were better things that he and Stefan could be doing. Damon hopped up with far more enthusiasm than he actually felt and clapped Stefan on the arms. “I don’t know about you, but I think it’s time to get _spectacularly_ drunk.”

And so they did.

\--

Damon woke up with a mouth so furry he was genuinely concerned that a squirrel had crawled into it and a headache so pervasively awful that he thought he’d been shot. Bits of information trickled into his consciousness: he was on his back on the floor - where, exactly, evaded him - and someone was groaning nearby. 

When he opened his eyes Damon closed them again almost straight away because the room was so bright it was nauseating. In the split second his eyes had been open he’d taken in a few things though, namely that the person groaning was Stefan on the couch next to him, and Lexi was standing above them looking torn between laughter and exasperation. Damon would have to tell her that Bonnie could give her lessons on pulling off both at the same time.

“It’s good to see you alive, Damon.”

Breathing hurt. “Is it? I don’t feel alive.” 

The wonder of it all was that Lexi even sounded genuine, if a little judgemental at the present moment. That’s why she was such a good person. Damon had slept with her under false pretenses, left her to die on a New York rooftop, and then he _actually_ killed her to top it all off, and she was still happy to see him because she knew that Stefan was relieved to have him alive. As he fought not to puke Damon resolved to treat her better this go around.

Damon forced himself to sit up. Stefan had covered his face with a pillow and it didn’t look like he was planning on moving any time soon and Damon couldn’t blame him. They’d gone to the bar at Whitmore - so close to Elena, yet so far - and Damon had told Stefan more about the Prison World while they drank a truly inadvisable amount of bourbon… and tequila. The tequila was what had really tipped them over. 

Explaining to Stefan that they’d been trapped in 1994 with a serial killer from Oregon while off his face on shitty alcohol and grief that Elena didn’t remember him was an experience that Damon wouldn’t necessarily cherish forever, but he definitely wasn’t going to forget it in a hurry. Listening as Stefan brokenly admitted that after two months he’d stopped looking for ways to bring Damon and Bonnie back wasn’t exactly going to fall out of his head either.

Lexi offered him a hand and Damon cautiously took it, only to immediately be pulled into his second uncomfortably tight hug in as many days. She literally lifted him off of his feet for a few heart stopping seconds and Damon tried not to flail before she dropped him back down. Lexi held him by his shoulders and looked into his eyes. “I got uncomfortably close to a llama for you, Damon. Don’t make me regret it.”

“...okay?”

_Damon?_

It was hard not to visibly space out when Bonnie spoke in his head - Stefan might not notice something like that straight away, but Damon didn’t really want to take his chances with Lexi - so he walked into the bathroom to splash his face with water. It woke him up a little more and gave him an opportunity to respond. _Yeah?_

_Elena’s picked up another shift at the hospital to avoid you. Caroline and I are going to go and get breakfast so if you want to catch Elena before she leaves…_

Bonnie didn’t need to say anything else. _God, you’re the best._

Before he and Stefan had gone drinking last night, Damon had compelled some poor schmuck out of his clothes because Damon’s own were dusty and bloody, not fit for polite company and definitely not ‘take me back Elena!’ material. Now he straightened the leather jacket over the white shirt and confirmed that his jeans were buttoned. He was as devastatingly good looking as he was going to get on so little notice.

Damon whooshed back into the room to see Lexi throwing various items at Stefan: a pen, and then a candle. It fell on the floor with a thud and Stefan twitched but didn’t show any further signs of life. Just to be a dick, and because he was still hurt that Stefan had given up on him so quickly, Damon clapped his hands loudly together and grinned when Stefan muffled a noise of pain. “Okay, folks! I’m going to go and remind my girlfriend why she loves me.”

If he had expected a snide comment from Lexi, it wasn’t what Damon got. Instead she looked weirdly sympathetic, like she felt sorry for him. Lexi might’ve died before he and Elena ever got together, but Damon figured that Stefan must have filled her in, if she wasn’t able to watch the drama unfold like a badly written television show from the Other Side herself. “Good luck, Damon.”

Now that just didn’t feel right. Damon pulled a face at her. “I don’t know if I’m on board with you being so supportive.”

Lexi bared her teeth at him, which at least felt more normal. Damon grinned back at her and whooshed from the apartment, determined to get to Elena’s dorm before she’d managed to hide from him. It took barely a moment to orient himself; they were just off campus, and he could hear the clamor of students nearby. Damon considered hedging his bets and just waiting at the hospital, but the idea of begging his girlfriend to remember that she loved him in front of an audience was a bit much, even for him.

As he ran past a cafe Damon had the strange experience of becoming aware of Bonnie’s heartbeat; she and Caroline must be eating there. After sending a quick _thanks!_ over their connection Damon pushed on and arrived at Elena’s dorm in record time, walking through the halls at a more sedate pace to stand outside her door. As he got closer her heartbeat filtered into his ears, staggered but strong. It sounded like she was still getting her stuff together.

Damon wanted to barge right into the room but he also wanted to be better than the Damon that Elena currently remembered him as, so he knocked instead. Elena dropped whatever she was doing and moved towards the door. “Who is it?”

Had no one really ever told her how to discern between people's heartbeats? They'd have to work on that. It was incredible just to hear her voice so up close. “Elena, it’s me.” Three words were enough to freeze her in place. Damon waited for her to say something, to move closer, but she didn’t. “Elena, please open the door.”

It was almost possible to hear her shake her head. “I can’t. Not right now.” It was _definitely_ possible to hear the stubbornness in her voice. This was an Elena who wasn’t going to budge. Damon dragged his knuckles against the door.

_Damon -_

Bonnie’s voice popping into his head almost made him bite through his tongue, he was so surprised; all of him was focused on Elena. God, now really wasn’t the time. Damon was willing to blame the harshness of his mental tone on the tenseness of the situation when he responded with _I’m busy, Bonnie. Can it wait?_

Bonnie’s ensuing silence sounded annoyed, a feat that Damon wouldn’t have thought was possible before that exact moment. He almost reneged and asked her what was up, but Elena was so close. Damon didn’t want to hope for a miracle, but he had to try.

“Elena, I understand why you did what you did. But it’s not _real._ The way you felt about me is what’s real… you once told me it was the most real thing you’d ever felt in your entire life.” Damon made himself bite his lip and wait, listening for any shift in Elena’s demeanour that might mean she was going to let him in. She hadn’t moved any closer to the door.

“Those feelings are gone.”

Hearing Elena say that felt like the verbal equivalent of being shot point blank in the face. He closed his eyes and hit his forehead gently against the door. “Oh, come on. You’ve compelled enough people to know it’s just a way of covering up the truth. No matter how badly you want it done doesn’t make it any less of a _lie_.”

A shift, an intake of breath on the other side of the door. It felt like Elena was giving him a mile just by reacting in such a tiny way. When she moved towards the door, Damon thought his heart was going to crawl straight out of his mouth. He could hear her breathing and he said so, immediately wanting to snap his own neck when she flinched back from the door. Damon sucked in a shaky breath. “Just open the door, Elena, please. Everything can go back to the way it was.”

When Damon heard the click of the lock disengaging, he could have shouted hallelujah. He opened the door slowly, tentatively, and found himself looking at an empty room. The curtains beside Elena’s bed were billowing with the outside breeze and had she seriously just jumped out of her second storey window in broad daylight just to get away from him? 

Screw his hangover, Damon needed a drink.

\--

Considering drinking alone probably wasn’t the best idea for him right now, Damon reasoned that he could multitask by drinking with Ric while also tearing him a new one for making the love of Damon’s life forget that she had ever cared about him. There was also the added bonus of being able to mock Ric for coming back to life only to become a _college professor_. It was easy enough to figure out where his office was and Damon headed it that direction, dragging his feet because honestly? Everything was awful.

Being trapped in 1994 with a deranged serial killer? That had been pretty sucky. Coming back to life to discover his girlfriend only remembered him as a sadistic murderer and wouldn’t even see him let alone talk to him? Damon had had better days.

A tentative attempt to talk to Bonnie over their connection was met with frosty silence and Damon wanted to kick himself. Bonnie probably wouldn’t have tried to talk to him at all if it hadn’t been important because she had to know just how desperate he was to fix things with Elena. What could he do about it now, if she wasn’t going to answer him? Their phones had been useless in 1994 but they’d remembered to bring them back with them and Damon’s was burning a hole in his pocket. Something told Damon that Bonnie wouldn’t appreciate him calling her repeatedly until she talked to him, though.

When Damon got to Ric’s office it took him .2 seconds to sniff out the bourbon in the desk drawer, so Damon reclined in Ric’s heinously uncomfortable chair and took a swig. It was strong enough to make Damon cough once, pounding a fist on his chest. Being a vampire had broadened Ric’s palate, obviously. The door handle rattled and Damon tensed slightly, still unsure if he wanted to hug Ric hello or punch him.

Ric afforded Damon the dignity of looking surprised to see him, which was nice. Or he was distracted and hadn’t heard Damon in the room. “God, Damon, it’s good to see you.”

A hug, then. 

Damon stood up and whooshed around the desk, meanly pleased when Ric flinched slightly, and wrapped his arms around him as tightly as he dared. Ric might be a large contributing factor to Damon’s present problems, but he was also Damon’s best friend and he’d fucking missed him, okay? They both tried to downplay the emotion by heartily slapping each other on the back before they moved apart. They looked at each other for a moment before Damon tipped the bourbon back for another swig and offered the bottle to Ric; he took it and swallowed some down.

Damon sat in a much more comfortable seat obviously meant for students and Ric sat next to him and just stared for a minute. How long would it take for people looking at Damon like they expected him to disappear at any moment to get old? For now, Damon enjoyed it. After a while spent passing the bourbon back and forth, Ric grinned at him. “So, how the hell are you?”

 _That_ million dollar question had Damon tipping his head back and groaning, reaching his hand out to wordlessly ask for the bourbon back. Ric obliged and Damon drank. “Well, let’s see… there’s a magical hamster ball around my hometown preventing me from sleeping in my own bed, and my girlfriend doesn’t remember liking me let alone loving me! I'm pretty shitty, Ric.”

Ric pulled a face that spoke of regret. “I am sorry about that, but missing you was dangerous for Elena… she loved you _too_ much. Luke got her hooked on drugs so she could keep seeing you, Damon. She was attacking people at the border because the withdrawals made her so hungry.”

Okay, so Stefan had left that part out. Damon waved a hand in the air. “I’m sure she did the whole snatch, eat, erase thing.”

“Actually, one of the girls got away and ran back into Mystic Falls after Elena compelled her to forget that she’d attacked her. That magical hamster ball you mentioned stripped the compulsion away and she could reveal Elena as a vampire at any moment.”

A quick glance at the label of the bourbon told Damon that it was strong but not _that_ strong. Jesus, that… wasn’t good. “I’m sure Dumb and Dumber are dealing with that though, right?”

Ric shrugged, his broad shoulders shifting against his seat. “Matt’s trying to contain it.”

Well, good. Damon nodded and took another swig. “Speaking of compulsion… Now that I’m back in the land of the living, how about you _un_ compel my beautiful, darling girlfriend so she remembers how much she adores me?”

It was pointless to ask and Damon knew it. Ric was too good of a surrogate dad to Elena to ever just bend to Damon’s will and the next words out of his mouth only proved that: “I will, but only when Elena tells me that’s what she wants.”

Damon nodded, grim. Exactly what he’d expected. Knowing it was coming didn’t make him feel any better because if Elena had removed all of her memories of loving him _and_ her memories of him being a good person - when it suited him - why would she ever want to have her memories restored? Thinking about it was making his head hurt more than it already did and Damon pulled a face at Ric. “See, I get that. But why would Elena ask you to remove the compulsion if she can’t remember _why_ she’d want you to? Chicken, egg.” Damon lifted one hand up and then the other, almost spilling bourbon everywhere. Ric took the bottle off of him, which was fair. “Stefan told me that I’m back to being Sadistic Torturer Damon to her.”

Damon must be getting on Ric’s nerves because he sighed, getting up to move behind his desk to glare at Damon, taking the bourbon with him. “I know, Damon. It’s a shitty situation. But until Elena asks me, I can’t help you.”

Message received. Damon stood up and snatched the bourbon back off of Ric’s desk, and left without another word. If Elena was going to pick up shifts just so she could avoid him, Damon was going to wait in her dorm and make himself _impossible_ to avoid. It wasn’t childish, it was practical. 

Except when he arrived at her dorm - Bonnie wasn’t there, so she was either still out with Caroline or she was canoodling with Little Gilbert - he saw pretty quickly that Elena’s erasure of him had been thorough.

There were photos everywhere. On the dresser, on the nightstands, on the fucking mantelpiece, and Damon wasn’t in a single one. It was like the last two years had never happened. If Damon kept tipping the bourbon back like he was he wouldn’t have anything to drink sooner rather than later. The bottle got thunked down on the dresser in favor of a photo of Elena. He found a sharpie and arranged himself on her bed, drawing a stick figure version of himself alongside her. _Damon waz here_ and all of that.

Now what? He could smell Elena’s perfume all around him, mixed in with the faint scent of Bonnie; she must have slept on her own bed last night while Damon was drinking a college football team’s worth of alcohol. Were they up all night, talking about what had happened in the Prison World? He and Bonnie hadn't really discussed how much or how little they were planning to divulge. 

Their connection was still going strong which was at least a little reassuring, because it meant Bonnie was mad at him but not _that_ mad at him. After a moment of deliberation, Damon sent a simple _Bon?_ He might have used the shortened version of her nickname in the hopes that she’d cave and talk to him, and so what? Damon wasn’t above being sneaky.

_I’m with Jeremy. Can it wait?_

Damon laughed. Touché. Whether she was breaking up with Jeremy or riding him like a pony, Damon wasn’t going to interrupt. Considering the amount of alcohol he’d drunk in the last twenty four hours, Damon felt more than a little sleepy. He was already lying down, basically, and he’d hear Elena opening the door with enough time to arrange himself to look his best. Like just thinking about having a nap was enough to switch off his brain, Damon felt his eyelids slipping shut. He’d just catch a couple of hours...

Damon woke to the insistent sound of his phone ringing to discover that it was nighttime around him. When he saw that it was Elena calling he almost pulled something trying to answer it before the call dropped out, taking a deep breath so he didn’t sound too excited when he pressed the little green button. “You remembered my number… that’s a good start, right?”

There was background noise, so Elena was outside somewhere. Probably still on campus, if Damon had to guess. “Yeah, I figured I’d press the ‘Damon’ button and see what happened.”

Elena was thinking of him. That had to mean something, didn’t it? Especially considering she could only remember the bad things he’d done. Hope was one hell of a drug. “And… what _is_ happening?”

“I don’t know.” Elena laughed once, a short exhalation of sound. “I don’t know what I’m doing, really. But I think that we should meet. I can’t run from you forever, so… come by my dorm?”

It took a lot of strength not to start dancing around her room with the sheer amount of joy Damon experienced in that moment. “Yeah! Yes. I’ll be here -” god, way to sound like a creep who’d just spent the last handful of hours sleeping on her bed, “- there! I’ll be there. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

Elena said okay and hung up and holy shit, this was really happening! 

Damon shot up and looked around, trying to straighten out her sheets as best as he could and put everything back where he’d found it. If he had pillow creases on his face right now he was going to lose it and Damon checked his reflection in the full-length mirror, fluffing his hair and trying to smooth out the creases in his shirt. The door handle turned behind him and Damon smiled. Had she run the whole way? Maybe today was going to get its photo finish after all.

When Damon turned around it wasn’t Elena behind him, but it _was_ a man he’d never seen before. He looked like a mean motherfucker and the gun he pointed at Damon almost straight away only confirmed that: Damon bared his fangs and barely caught the vervain dart in time to stop it from lodging in his chest. Not today, no siree. He had _plans._ Damon threw the dart back at the guy and caught him in the meat of his thigh. It wouldn’t do anything, but it’d fucking hurt and that would have to do. 

A stake got pulled out of the guy’s jacket and Damon had had enough of this. He whooshed towards the guy and pinned one of his arms behind his back and the arm holding the stake underneath the guy’s own throat. If this guy was so desperate to stab someone, why shouldn’t it be himself? Damon pressed his mouth against the guy’s ear. “Who _are_ you?” If Stefan and Ric had neglected to tell Damon that Whitmore was crawling with hunters, he was doing to kill this guy and then them.

Or he would have, except Damon felt three darts pierce the skin of his back. The grip he had on the guy loosened against his will as Damon slumped down onto the floor, his vision blurring before it faded out to the murky black unique to unconsciousness. Well, fuck.

\--

Damon had never been a fan of waking up after being hit with a vervain dart: it always meant his eyes were slow to focus and his senses were annoyingly _human_ for a few minutes. Human enough that he couldn’t quite grasp his connection with Bonnie right then, though he could feel enough of it to know it was there. Damon blinked his eyes a couple of times and realized a few things at once. Namely, he was in the back of a van and he was wearing shackles and Enzo was there? So, Damon once more found himself with more questions than answers.

It was a struggle to pull himself off of the floor - they’d obviously just thrown him in and secured him - and onto the seat across from Enzo’s but Damon just managed it. Enzo smiled at him, a secret sort of smile. “Morning, sunshine.”

It hurt to smile back but Damon did it anyway. Damon looked down at the cuffs holding his wrists together and then down at the chain that secured him to the floor and had the unpleasant sensation of deja vu. “Well, this brings back memories.”

“Not all bad, I hope.” Enzo’s voice was like liquid chocolate - the same as always - and it worked to relax Damon a little because Enzo was right. Damon might’ve spent five years being tortured, but he hadn’t been alone. Some nights, holding Enzo’s hand through the scant gap between their cells and listening to him talk had been the only thing that had stopped Damon from going insane. Damon took a deep, steadying breath and kept trying to get comfortable while Enzo watched him.

While he moved around, Enzo kept talking. “I’m glad you found your way back. Bonnie?” Damon could hear the hope in Enzo’s voice and it made him smile, because the answer wasn’t an awful one. It was basically the only _good_ news in this shit pile.

“She’s back too. We tried to let you know we were coming in advance, but I think I’m seeing why that didn’t work.”

Enzo’s answering smile was sharp. “Tripp, the hunter who’s van we’re so enjoying, fancies himself something of a vampire hunter. Likes his torture. He kept the lights on and the guards would spray me with water whenever I tried to sleep. I heard you both calling to me one night, but I was too weak to do much more than groan, I’m afraid.”

God, what was _wrong_ with people? Enzo continued and Damon wished he hadn’t. “I’m afraid our reunion is going to be cut short, though. We’re driving towards the border of Mystic Falls and its really big vampire bug zapper as we speak.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Damon grunted as he started trying to pull the chains free of the floor. “Why didn’t Stefan tell me that there was a hunter in town?” A louder grunt as he leaned back, trying to get some sort of grip on the chains. 

Enzo wasn’t trying to get free; he was just reclining on his own bench seat, chained hands between his knees. “It probably slipped his mind because he’s responsible for my return to incarceration.”

Damon took a moment to process that one. “Now, why would he do that?”

If Damon had expected Enzo to look apologetic, he only looked smug. “I killed his new girlfriend when I found out he’d given up on looking for you.” Which was… weirdly sweet? It made a funny emotion well up in Damon’s stomach, anyway. Damon opened his mouth to respond - would a ‘thank you’ be appropriate, here? - when Bonnie’s thoughts slammed into his head like a fucking anvil. 

_Damon? Damon, where the fuck are you?_

How had he forgotten that it was possible to yell over their connection? Damon winced. _Bonnie -_

_I was with Jeremy and then you dropped out of my head, what the FUCK is going ON -_

_BONNIE!_

Blessed silence. Damon glanced at Enzo and saw that he was looking at Damon already, a strange expression on his face. There was no way he could know that Damon was talking to Bonnie right now, was there? Even if he _did_ know Damon didn’t care. _We’re in the back of a van, driving towards the border. Might be curtain call for me._

_‘We’? You’re with Enzo?_

_Yeah._

All of the sudden the van started to lose speed. Damon looked at Enzo again and raised an eyebrow. Had the others realized that they were missing? Elena would have been expecting Damon at her dorm and Bonnie would have noticed the second he lost consciousness, like she’d said. When the van came to a complete stop, Damon started pulling at his chains like there was no tomorrow because if he didn’t there really might _not_ be a tomorrow for him.

When Damon heard Ric’s voice, he froze. “Evening! I’m trying to get my buddy to a bachelor’s party but my car’s fucked. Think you can help us out?” Was it wishful thinking, to hope that this Tripp asshole was a good samaritan? 

“I don’t know anything about cars, sorry!”

Yep. Damon started tugging at his chains again and Ric pressed on. “Maybe you could give us a ride, then?”

Enzo nudged Damon with his foot. “Who’s that?”

“Ric. He’s up to something and it’d better be good, because the bastard owes me.”

The sound of breaking glass didn’t exactly bode well, nor did the sound of a scuffle that followed. Compressed air told Damon that Tripp had probably shot at Ric with that fucking vervain gun and oh shit, the van was moving forward again and it was moving forward again _fast_. With an explosive sound the van hit something and flipped onto its side, skidding as Enzo and Damon tried not to whack into each other or the walls of the van. If they were going to get out of his mess, they needed to be conscious. 

When they passed over the border into Mystic Falls, Damon felt it straight away. A bullet hole ripped itself open in his stomach, blood started to stain his shirt, and Enzo was coughing up blood across from him. If Damon stretched his ears he thought he could hear Ric groaning in pain too as the van finally lurched to a stop. Had he gotten dragged past the border with them? God, this wasn’t how Damon had seen his day going. This was the _opposite_ of how he’d seen his day going.

The back doors got unceremoniously ripped off of the back of the van and it took Damon a second to realize the figure he could see was Stefan: he’d crossed the border to help them and had gotten a bloody hole in his shirt for his trouble. The sound of screeching tires filled the air and the acrid smell of burning rubber made Damon cough, only it hurt too much. The pain of his magic being stripped away from him was excruciating - was this what it felt like for Bonnie, when Kai leeched her magic from her body? - and Damon was finding it hard to concentrate. 

Stefan reached for Damon’s chains and he coughed again, shaking his head. Lifting his arms cost him a significant amount of energy but Damon did it so he could point insistently at Enzo, who had blood trailing down his chin. His eyes were closed. “No, him first. Get him first.”

The night was pierced by the sound of screeching tires for the second time in five minutes and Damon’s ears ached. He was only vaguely aware of Stefan ripping his chains off and tugging him from the van and when Damon heard Bonnie call his name, it was impossible to tell if she was really there or if it was still in his head.

Everything sort of went to hell in a handbasket, after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this chapter! You'll notice that I'm keeping some of the same scenes as the show, but there will be some notable differences. It's more evident in the next chapter, trust me 👀 
> 
> Next chapter we're back to Bonnie's POV!
> 
> Come chat with me on twitter [@bonbennetts](https://twitter.com/bonbennetts) and as always my tumblr is [@bonbennett](https://bonbennett.tumblr.com/) 💞


	16. NFWMB

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonnie reunites with her friends, qualifies a relationship, and saves the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from 'NFWMB' by Hozier (nothing fucks with my baby).

**bonnie -**

After spending the last week together, leaving Damon behind at the cemetery just felt weird. _Wrong_. Bonnie reasoned that it was only natural to feel that way after spending so much time - almost every hour of every day - together, and it was going to take her a while to get used to not seeing him as often. 

It was harder to convince herself that she’d enjoy it.

Before she’d left the crypt, Bonnie had been able to feel Damon’s agony and his grief and his sadness that Elena didn’t love him anymore - didn’t remember having _ever_ loved him - even with his mental walls up and Bonnie knew how reckless he could be with himself when he was hurting. So even with Stefan’s expression at seeing her hand on Damon’s shoulder and the way Damon had gripped onto her in return so fresh in her mind, Bonnie had asked Stefan to look after his brother. 

If Stefan didn’t, and Damon did something stupid, Bonnie was prepared to hold Stefan accountable. It was the least that he could do for Damon as far as Bonnie was concerned. 

Damon couldn’t fool Bonnie with assurances that he wasn’t _that_ dramatic because he couldn’t forget that Bonnie knew him now, more than she had ever expected to. They were going to fix the situation with Elena and Damon wasn’t allowed to ruin it for himself by making any dumb decisions. Bonnie had a feeling that the night was going to end for Damon at the bottom of a bottle, but at least Stefan would be there as a supportive - hopefully - drinking buddy.

Bonnie lost her footing and swore, catching herself with shaky hands on a tree trunk. Damon might’ve told Stefan that she was clumsy but at the moment that was actually pretty far from the truth: she could see perfectly, it was just her over-active brain making her stumble. Letting herself get lost in thoughts about Damon was going to lead to Bonnie _actually_ skewering herself on a branch, and wouldn’t that just be hilarious?

As much as Bonnie wanted to whoosh right to Caroline’s car to reunite with her best friends - she could hear them impatiently pacing, telling each other that they couldn’t believe that Bonnie was back, that she was alive - Bonnie made herself continue walking at an annoyingly human pace. If not just so that she could gather her thoughts and figure out exactly how much or how little she wanted to tell them. Was there an easy way to tell the people that she’d been best friends with since she was a toddler that she had her magic back, but she was also at least ninety percent a vampire _and_ she didn’t hate Damon anymore? Somehow Bonnie doubted it.

The whole thing felt a dream. 

Bonnie had half expected that if they made it back to their version of Mystic Falls at all, her connection to Damon would be gone and her magic would be behind a wall again, unreachable. That her vampire nature, which was beginning to feel so natural to her, would be gone. Bonnie hadn’t had to wait long to have that proven wrong, considering that her fangs had dropped as soon as Damon had offered his wrist to her so that her collar bone could heal after their fall.

It was easy to see that her connection to Damon hadn’t just been some Prison World fluke either, because it was still possible to feel Damon’s presence in her head. As she made it further away from him his heartbeat became quieter in her ears, but his presence in her head remained as steady and constant as always. Bonnie could admit in the darkness of the forest that it was reassuring. And the fact that Bonnie should find reassurance - _comfort_ \- in having Damon in her head made her want to laugh hysterically.

Yeah, there was definitely no way that Bonnie was going to try explaining that to Caroline and Elena.

Stefan had looked at Bonnie and Damon like they'd been replaced by pod people when they’d voluntarily touched each other in the crypt. What would Caroline and Elena have to say about it? Elena didn’t remember loving Damon but she definitely wouldn’t have forgotten that Bonnie had barely tolerated him before they’d ‘died’. 

Bonnie wasn’t a good enough actor to pretend that she hated Damon and she didn’t even want to try; too much had changed between them for Bonnie to make a convincing go of it. That being said, Bonnie hadn’t even considered what Damon might want. They were back in the real world and while things weren’t exactly as they’d left them, what if Damon wanted to go back to how things had been before? Where they barely spoke and _definitely_ didn’t touch? The thought was enough to make Bonnie’s breath quicken with panic because she didn’t want that, not even a little bit.

Considering Bonnie could tell she was almost on top of Caroline and Elena, she dismissed the thought. She could worry about it later because right now, she was going to reunite with her friends after thinking there was a chance she was really never going to see them again. She couldn’t fucking wait.

As she walked into the clearing housing her friends Bonnie braced herself just in time to be picked up off of the ground and spun in the air and she shrieked, not in fear but in pure joy. When she looked down at her assailant it was to see the radiant face of one Caroline Forbes, her blue eyes shining at Bonnie through a film of tears. Bonnie felt herself start to cry again even as she couldn’t stop smiling. She’d cried more in the last hour than she had in the last year but it didn’t matter because Caroline’s eyes were streaming too.

With no warning at all Caroline dropped her back down onto the ground and Bonnie was about to ask her what was wrong when Caroline started patting over Bonnie’s body, paling when she found the bloody hole in her shirt. Confusion crossed Caroline’s face when she poked around and didn’t find an injury. “Why do you smell like _blood?_ ”

Bonnie swatted at Caroline’s hand, and Elena’s as well when she moved closer and started lifting Bonnie’s shirt up to look. “No, it’s fine! I hurt myself when we landed and Damon healed me. See?” The half-lie came easily and Bonnie lifted her shirt herself so she could demonstrate just how smooth and unblemished her stomach was.

While Caroline slumped in relief, hand against her forehead, Elena pulled a face at Bonnie and said, “How nice of him.” And then she seemed to notice that she hadn’t hugged Bonnie yet, because Elena yanked her forward and squeezed her tight enough to bruise. Bonnie tried to focus on that instead of the tone of Elena’s voice as she’d said the words, like she really didn’t believe that Damon would ever do something nice for someone.

When Elena pulled away from her she was crying and Bonnie was helpless not to join back in; Caroline was standing just off to the side, dabbing at her eyes with the corner of her sweater. In a distant sort of way, Bonnie realized that she wasn’t flinching away from their touches anymore. Maybe Damon being so casually affectionate with her had cured Bonnie of that particularly annoying habit? She was glad for it, regardless.

Bonnie had missed them both so fiercely and it was incredible that she got to see them again, let alone touch them. They carried on that way for a few minutes, Elena and Caroline hugging her like they expected her to disappear into thin air at any moment and Bonnie let them because it was nice to know that they had missed her just as much as she had missed them.

Elena grabbed one of her hands and Caroline took the other and they stood there in the darkness of the clearing, smiling watery smiles at each other. Bonnie squeezed their hands in her own. “God, I’ve missed you two so much. You have _no_ idea.”

They laughed at her then glanced at each other in a way that told Bonnie that she’d missed out on quite a bit in the week - the _four months_ \- that she’d been gone. Caroline looked back at her. “Trust me, we have some idea.” Then Caroline reverted back into Mom Mode and herded Elena and Bonnie back towards her car, almost shoving them into their seats. Bonnie was surprised that Caroline didn’t put her seatbelt on for her and she had never been so happy to be micromanaged in her life.

Caroline and Elena might be happy to see Bonnie alive, but it was possible that they were even happier to have someone to share all of the gossip with. 

In short order Bonnie learned that Caroline had dropped out of Whitmore to focus on removing the anti-magic spell from Mystic Falls but was now considering going back, and that Elena had chosen to pursue becoming a doctor, enrolling in pre-med for their sophomore year. Bonnie was happy for Elena; it was the perfect type of job for someone as caring as she was. Elena told her about Jo, her supervisor at the hospital, who Elena was trying desperately to set up with Alaric, who wasn’t exactly coping with being a vampire.

How _could_ you go from hunting vampires to being one? It’d be a hard thing to reconcile. Bonnie didn't think that she’d have much luck with telling Alaric that just giving into being a vampire, embracing it, was the easiest way through. Bonnie knew she was lucky because as far as she could tell, she didn’t have to deal with cravings like the others. She’d even wondered if she _had_ to feed at all but it was hard to figure out when she’d fed from Damon almost every day for the last week.

Bonnie was tempted to bring Damon up but she didn’t know if Elena was even aware that her feelings for him had been compelled away because Stefan hadn’t exactly been clear on that. It was still hard for Bonnie to believe that erasing Damon so completely from her life was something that Elena had done at all. But at the same time, with the way Bonnie was starting to feel about Damon… she could understand how hard missing him would have been for Elena and how unbearable his absence must have been for the last four months.

Elena ripped Bonnie from her thoughts by telling her, with a significant amount of glee, that Caroline had a crush on Stefan. 

“ _Had!_ I had a crush on Stefan.” Bonnie laughed, unsurprised by the news. Caroline had loved Stefan pretty much as soon as she’d met him - memories of the June wedding she’d planned came to mind - and just because they’d both dated pretty much everyone else didn’t mean that they weren’t going to find their way back to each other eventually. It was just like Caroline to be in denial about the whole thing, too; she was shaking her head vehemently. “He’s being a dick at the moment and we’re not really talking.”

Bonnie looked in the rearview mirror and laughed when Elena rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. It all felt so _normal_. Well, for the most part. Because Elena had sounded gleeful but also a little… jealous? If Elena couldn’t remember loving Damon - that she had fallen for him while she was still technically with Stefan - did that mean she had reverted back to the place she’d been in two years ago, when Stefan was the center of her Universe?

If that was the case, Bonnie had no idea how Damon was going to cope if Elena never asked Alaric for her memories back.

There wasn’t too much time to devote to thinking about that just yet because Caroline barreled onwards, eager to shift the attention off of the feelings she may or may not have for a particular Salvatore brother. “ _Elena_ has been seeing this guy from her volunteering thing. His name is Liam and he’s a _douche_.”

Elena made an indignant noise from the backseat and tried to swat at Caroline, who laughed and dodged her hand without sending the car into a tree. “Hey! He’s not a douche, he’s just… okay, he’s a little bit of a douche. But in a cute way! You should have seen him at the Corn Maze, Bonnie. He saved a girl’s life all by himself!”

“Wait, what corn maze? Why did he have to save someone’s life?” And then Bonnie was subjected to a graphic retelling of what Elena and Caroline described as One of The Worst Days Ever, in which Tyler had almost triggered his werewolf curse again by nearly killing over a dozen people. Elena had healed people as discreetly as she could while Alaric did things the more traditional way with Jo, and in the end no one died by Tyler’s hand. 

Bonnie needed a moment to digest that one. She and Damon had been in the Prison World touching each other at every opportunity while juggling a homicidal maniac at the same time, while their friends were in the real world and dealing with just as much magical nonsense. How had this become their lives? 

A better question was, why did Bonnie enjoy it so much? The near death bullshit she could do without, of course, but the rest of it? The vampires, and the danger, and being a powerful witch? Bonnie didn’t think she’d trade any of it for a quiet suburban life. It wouldn’t suit her.

Trees were flashing past through the car windows and they were more than halfway back to Whitmore and the life that Bonnie had left behind, however unintentionally. What would be stranger: sleeping in her dorm bed, or sleeping without Damon beside her? A quick shake of her head got _that_ thought out and Bonnie made herself grin at Caroline. “And what made the day so awful for you?”

Caroline gripped the steering wheel tight and groaned and Bonnie laughed because she’d missed her dramatics so much. “God, you have no idea. When Stefan gave up on looking for you guys, which is one of the reasons I’m so mad at him, by the way, Enzo killed his new girlfriend.” Bonnie blinked. Enzo was still around? Why hadn’t she and Damon been able to get a hold of him the other night, then? And Stefan _gave up_ on looking for them? Caroline was still talking and Bonnie struggled to keep up.

“Only he’d fed her his blood first, so when Stefan’s boss was burying her she came back to life and killed him. Then when she got too inconvenient for Stefan, he dumped her on _my_ doorstep!”

Movement from the backseat drew Bonnie's eye and she looked in the rearview mirror to see that Elena was frowning. “Care, you know it’s just because he thought you’d be the best person to help her -”

“That’s so besides the point! He literally broke her neck and shoved her in a box, Elena. It was pretty shitty of him.”

A tense silence fell in the car and Bonnie didn’t know what to say, watching as the minutes ticked by on the dashboard clock. It was hard to tell if Elena was defending Stefan because he was her friend or because she was back to idolizing him now that she didn’t love Damon and Bonnie was too afraid to ask. She wasn’t too afraid to change the subject, though.

“So why are you having so much trouble with the anti-magic spell?”

It had been meant to relax Caroline, but if anything she tensed up even more. “It will _not_ budge. I’ve read more books about Travelers and barrier magic than I ever wanted to, Bonnie. And do you want to know the real kicker? Compulsion wears off if someone goes across the border. Elena almost killed a girl -” 

Elena shouted in her own defence from the backseat and Bonnie spared her a shocked glance. _Elena_ had almost killed someone? Stefan hadn’t been exaggerating when he said that missing Damon was bad for Elena if that was what she’d been getting up to the last four months. 

Caroline only talked louder to be heard over Elena’s shouting. “- and the compulsion wore off as soon as she ran into Mystic Falls! Matt and Jeremy have been trying to stop her from talking but she could spill the beans at literally any moment.”

The mention of Jeremy froze Bonnie in her seat and she couldn’t have been any happier when they pulled up out the front of their dorm if she tried. She scrambled out of the car and hoped that Elena and Caroline didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary and breathed a sigh of relief when they just got out after her and walked into the building. 

Elena rifled through her bag for her keys and talked as she walked, dodging past the other students. For how late it was there were still plenty of people around. “So, uh, we really thought you were dead this time? And we told the school.” 

“You told the school I was dead?” Had they told the other _students?_ If they had, Bonnie could imagine their reactions to seeing her right now, texting their friends ‘omg that Bennett girl is totally back from the dead!’

There was a pause as Elena unlocked the door to let them inside. Bonnie saw her stuff was exactly where she’d left it and a strange feeling of nostalgia overtook her because it felt like something from a past life, now. Caroline and Elena walked in after Bonnie and they just looked at her before looking between themselves for an awkward minute. Eventually, Caroline sighed and slumped down on her bed.

“Well, yeah. You were gone for four months, Bonnie.” Caroline looked like she was tearing up again. “We mourned you, you know?”

Bonnie sat down next to her and hugged her as best she could. “I know, I’m sorry.” Elena sat on Caroline’s other side and they both wrapped their arms around her. Bonnie laughed, sudden. “It’s going to make re-enrolling a bitch, though.”

After a second Caroline started to giggle, albeit a little wetly, and Bonnie joined in. Soon they were all laughing - far more than the situation called for, really - and rolling around on the bed, wiping at their eyes for the second time that night. Though it was a strange kind of a joy, to be celebrating that she _wasn’t_ dead, Bonnie was grateful for the opportunity to do it. The time she’d spent in the Prison World with Damon had been much nicer than she had expected it would be, but he didn’t stack up against time spent with her best friends. Or at least not completely.

Elena got up to sit on her own bed and Caroline and Bonnie arranged themselves where they were until they were comfortable. Bonnie knew the questions were coming and all she could do was wait. Caroline lasted an admirable thirty seconds before she cracked.

“So… where _have_ you been, if you weren’t actually dead?”

Bonnie didn’t know whether laughing would be appropriate so she just released an amused huff of air instead. “Okay, so, bear with me here: we ended up in a 1994 prison world with a psychotic magic-sucking witch from Oregon named Kai.”

Was Bonnie planning on distracting Elena and Caroline from the fact that Bonnie had spent a week - four months, to them - relatively alone with Damon, in the hope that questions about that could be avoided for at least a week? Damn right she was. Kai was incredibly effective at achieving that end too, because neither Caroline or Elena had any idea what to say at first. Then they started shouting questions at the same time.

“Wait, you’ve been in 1994 this entire time?”

“ _Magic-sucking?_ What the fuck does that mean?”

Now Bonnie let herself laugh, purely because it was so reassuring to have the insanity of the situation reaffirmed for her. “For the first few da - months,” god, hopefully they didn’t catch that stumble, “he just watched us, right? I’d go outside and feel eyes on me all the time. He broke into the house -”

Elena quirked her head to the side. “The house?”

Was it weird that she’d stayed in the Boarding House with Damon? Not really, Bonnie reasoned, if she never told them that they’d shared a bed. It was a boarding house: there were plenty of rooms that she could have slept in, and Caroline and Elena would never make the assumption that Bonnie and Damon would be that close to each other voluntarily. “The Boarding House. No anti-magic spell in 1994, so we just stayed there.” 

Saying ‘we’ instead of explicitly mentioning Damon felt safer - cowardly - but Elena accepted Bonnie’s answer, nodding for her to continue. Bonnie was about to mention that Kai had attacked them in _Bell’s_ but decided against it because it would have involved bringing Damon up. “So, he broke into the house and it turned out that my magic was his only way out of this prison, because his coven had used a Bennett spell to trap him there.”

Caroline shifted on the bed and Bonnie looked at her, waiting for the question that she could tell Caroline wanted to ask. “Why was it a prison, though? What did he do that was so awful he was trapped in 1994?”

Just thinking about what Kai had done to his siblings - hanging, drowning, mutilation - made disturbed goosebumps break out on Bonnie’s arms. “Kai killed almost his entire family, because they thought he was an abomination. He has no magic of his own; he has to suck it out of other people, which _hurts,_ by the way.”

Caroline put a concerned hand on Bonnie’s arm and the warmth of the touch was so comforting that Bonnie smiled at her. “You have your magic back? Does that mean he did it to you?”

Oops. Bonnie hadn't really thought that part through; this was going to involve some creative story-telling. Bonnie nodded and replied, “It came back as soon as we ended up in 1994, I'm not sure why. Kai's big on threats and he told me that he'd steal all of my magic so he could escape... but then I realized that he literally couldn't kill me if he wanted to make it back home.” Bonnie stopped herself from touching the bloody hole in her shirt. And then she made herself say what really made fear grip her tight: “When Damon and I got out… I think Kai got out with us, too.”

They had never met Kai - Bonnie hoped fiercely that they never did - but the worry in her voice must have been enough for Caroline and Elena, because they looked worried in turn. Caroline squeezed her knee and Elena came back over to sit down at Bonnie’s side and hug her briefly. “If he did, we’ll deal with it, yeah?”

Caroline made an affirming noise from Bonnie’s other side and she found herself grateful for them all over again. They had always been there for her and it was nice to know that that hadn’t changed with her absence.

It was like telling them about Kai had released a weight off of her shoulders and Bonnie felt herself relaxing into the softness of Caroline’s bed. It was the middle of the night and she was exhausted; when she thought about it, she’d had a busy day. Getting shot in the stomach by a deranged magic-sucking witch and then launching herself through a portal to get back to the people that she loved was more excitement than she’d really planned for and Bonnie yawned hugely, her jaw cracking.

Caroline and Elena, who were still seemingly reluctant to take their eyes off of her, yawned too. Just because they were vampires didn’t mean they didn’t feel tired; watching Damon as he struggled to stay awake in the Prison World had proven that. Bonnie wondered if they’d each be able to go longer without sleep the longer that they were vampires. Did they still require sleep each day because they were so recently turned? It wasn’t like there was an exact science to it.

Bonnie stood and stretched. “I have so much more to tell you guys -” though she still hadn’t decided what was appropriate to share and was leaning closer to _none of it_ with every passing minute, “- but honestly, I’m so fucking tired.”

Happy to have someone to look after, Caroline hopped up and whooshed over to Bonnie’s dresser, opening it to pull out some of her pyjamas. “We might’ve told everyone that you were dead, but we kept all of your stuff just where you left it.” She handed Bonnie the clothes and smiled at her, her blue eyes sparkling. “Just in case you pulled a Bonnie Bennett and came back from the dead a second… or is it the third time? I can’t remember.”

God, Bonnie had no clue. How was it possible to lose track of how many times she'd died? Bonnie laughed. “I actually couldn’t tell you. Enough times that I’m uncomfortably good at it, I guess.”

Bonnie took the pyjamas into the bathroom and rifled around for a new toothbrush and almost dropped it in the toilet - _why_ was the seat up, oh my god - when Elena and Caroline started talking about her just outside. And of course they would feel comfortable doing that, because they wouldn’t really expect that Bonnie would be able to hear them as clear as day.

“Does she seem different?” That was Elena, speaking lowly.

Caroline didn’t respond straight away and Bonnie wondered if she was seriously considering her answer. Probably, knowing Caroline. She didn’t do anything by halves. “I don’t know… sort of? Maybe a little,” and Bonnie missed some of what Caroline said next because she started brushing her teeth; turns out that was just as loud with vampire hearing as it was without. As she rinsed her mouth out she tuned back into their conversation. “Should we ask her what it was like over there, with Damon?”

Oh shit. That was one question that Bonnie seriously didn’t have an answer for yet. She already knew she couldn’t pretend to hate him, but the thought of telling Caroline and Elena that she and Damon had spent the majority of their time in the Prison World standing as close as they could to one another, cuddling, or _sleeping together_ made Bonnie feel slightly faint. She’d have to think of an abridged, PG-13 version and she needed time for that; half-asleep like she felt right now, Bonnie would end up saying something she’d wish she hadn’t.

Elena scoffed. “It would have been awful, obviously. You know how much of an asshole Damon is.” 

Bonnie blinked in surprise at her reflection in the mirror as she threw off her clothes and got into the pyjamas Caroline had given her. While that was something Elena might have said jokingly - _lovingly_ \- before, now it was literally possible to hear the contempt in her voice. The _hatred._ Whatever Alaric had done when he’d wiped Damon from Elena’s memory, he’d done a good job of it, though ‘good’ didn’t seem the right word. Caroline didn’t say anything in response and Bonnie had to wonder if she felt as uncomfortable as Bonnie did. They both knew that Damon wasn’t like that anymore.

Elena thought that Damon was a cold-blooded murderer, someone who killed people for fun and reveled in everyone’s misery. Damon might have been that person once - now that she knew him better Bonnie thought it had been more of a front than anything - but he was a completely different person these days. He was caring, thoughtful, and _loving_. Bonnie had maybe experienced that in a mostly platonic way, but she knew it was the truth of him in her bones.

It meant that Bonnie wasn’t interested in hearing what else Elena might have to say about Damon.

Bonnie walked back into the room and watched as Caroline and Elena both tried to act like they hadn’t been talking about her, with varying degrees of success. The clothes she had been wearing were bloody and dusty from her fall onto the floor of the tunnel and Bonnie grimaced at them before tossing them unceremoniously into the trash can beside her bed. Caroline and Elena were moving around the room behind her, getting ready for sleep as well. 

Lifting her sheets and getting beneath them was one of the best feelings Bonnie had experienced in a while and she closed her eyes and sighed happily as she squirmed around to get comfortable. When she noticed the quietness of the room she slitted an eye open to see Caroline looking at her with a tremulous smile on her face. “What? What’s wrong?”

Caroline laughed, wiping at the tear that had slipped out of her eye unbidden. “Nothing! I just never thought I’d see you do that again, you know? We thought this time was _it._ ” 

Bonnie could barely swallow past the sudden blockage of emotion in her throat. It must have been so awful for her friends to go so long without any word and not a single glimmer of hope. Leads that didn’t go anywhere, trails that dried up before yielding anything that could bring Bonnie and Damon back. A week felt like nothing to Bonnie, really, but four months? In a way, Bonnie could understand why Stefan had given up. 

After she wiped at a few errant tears of her own, Bonnie smiled at Caroline. “Not this time, Care. Not yet.”

It was strange, that Bonnie could see Caroline so clearly as she whooshed to stand beside her bed. Vampire eyesight was trippy. Caroline leant down and pressed a kiss to Bonnie’s forehead and pulled back to direct a playfully stern stare at Bonnie. “And you’re not allowed to die, ever again!”

Bonnie’s laughter was joined by Elena’s as she came out of the bathroom in her own pyjamas. She placed a twin kiss on Bonnie’s forehead and got into her own bed. “Three times is enough dying for anyone, I think. You’re maxed out.”

God, Bonnie hoped so. Would her vampire nature stop her from dying permanently now? If she wasn’t overcome by pain Bonnie was able to focus her energy on healing herself, but she didn’t really want to run the risk of trying to heal an injury that was _really_ life threatening. 

Being horizontal wasn’t doing great things for Bonnie’s state of consciousness and she closed her eyes again, trying not to notice the absence of Damon’s warmth at her side. She could still feel him in her head and she noticed for the first time since she’d left him that his emotions were a tumultuous wave in her head; grief, sadness, regret. He was still mostly blocking her but it was like he wasn’t really concentrating enough to do a proper job of it and Bonnie almost laughed out loud when she realized why: he was _drunk_ , just like she’d thought he would be.

Better that than killing innocent people, Bonnie figured. Like checking in on him was the last thing she had been capable of doing, Bonnie was asleep before Caroline had even finished brushing her teeth.

\--

When Bonnie woke up, it was to find Elena’s face two inches away from her own.

Bonnie felt justified in shouting and Elena flinched back from both the noise and Bonnie’s resultant flail that almost knocked their heads together. Bonnie pressed her hand against her pounding heart as she sat up, panting as she tried to catch her breath. “What are you _doing?_ ”

Elena’s hair was wet and she had a towel wrapped around herself and she looked like she wanted to laugh even as she looked… confused? Bonnie wasn’t really awake enough to decipher expressions just yet. “Sorry!” Elena gestured at Bonnie. “Your heartbeat is all funny.”

Oh, fuck. She might have gotten away with it last night because Elena and Caroline were so excited to have her back, but she wasn’t going to be as lucky today, obviously. Bonnie’s connection to Damon was as strong as ever considering they’d only fed from each other, however briefly, hours ago. It meant that Bonnie’s vampire nature was out in full force and her heartbeat was staggered, not at all regular like a human’s _should_ be. 

At least she could deflect fairly easily right now. “I was having a bad dream, Elena! Waking up to find us breathing the same air didn’t exactly help!”

Elena combed a hand through the thickness of her damp hair and poked her tongue out at Bonnie. “How was I supposed to know that?”

Caroline saved the day by walking through the front door with coffees in hand and Bonnie made grabby hands for one; if Elena was going to put her through her lying paces so soon after waking up, Bonnie really needed to be _actually awake_. Caroline held the cups away from her, sipping from one and handing the other to Elena. 

“No! Get in the shower, we’re going to go for breakfast.” Caroline looked at the time on her phone and made a face. “Well, lunch. You must’ve been really tired.” Bonnie groaned and flopped backwards on her bed, vaguely aware of Elena dropping her towel to pull on underwear; she’d always been a bit of an exhibitionist.

Years of experience told Bonnie that Caroline Forbes never took ‘no’ for an answer, so she heaved herself out of bed, grabbed some clothes - a dress, because she definitely ran warmer these days - and went to do as she was told. 

The water pressure may as well have been a trickle compared to Damon’s shower but Bonnie enjoyed it all the same, the heat of the water helping to loosen her muscles. It felt like she was scrubbing off the memory of Kai’s hands on her in a physical way. Worrying about where exactly he was was at the forefront of her mind. Knowing that Kai wouldn’t be able to get into Mystic Falls with the anti-magic barrier was only vaguely reassuring, because there was nothing stopping him from coming onto the Whitmore campus. Damon and Bonnie had landed exactly where they’d started off when the Other Side had exploded, and maybe that meant Kai was in Oregon? At least there was a significant amount of distance separating them, if that was the case.

Bonnie stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself, wiping the steam off of the mirror so she could do her hair and makeup. Once she was finished with that Bonnie got dressed and walked back out into the main room to find Elena was wearing what she guessed was her uniform for volunteering at the hospital. Bonnie shot a quick glance at Caroline and saw that she looked uncomfortable.

“You’re going to work?” Bonnie tried to keep her tone even, not like she was judging Elena or accusing her of anything.

Elena shrugged, looking on top of her dresser for something. “I picked up an extra shift to avoid Damon.”

Bonnie’s heart dropped. “Elena, he just wants to see you -”

Elena’s dresser shook as she slammed a drawer and Bonnie flinched. “I don’t want to see him, Bonnie, not right now. He killed my brother!”

Confusion crashed over Bonnie but she could see Caroline shaking her head out the corner of her eye: this wasn’t a recent thing, this was Elena remembering the Damon of literally years ago. God, Damon was really going to have his work cut out for him. “He’s not that person anymore, Elena. Please just see him?”

If there was ever a reason to let on that she didn’t hate Damon anymore, it was now. Bonnie could feel Caroline’s eyes on her but she stayed focused on Elena, who was still facing away from her. Elena’s shoulders were bunched up around her ears and Bonnie wracked her brain for something to say, anything that could convince Elena to stay and talk to Damon, but Elena beat her to the punch.

“No. I’m seeing someone new now, anyway.” Bonnie geared up to interrupt, with what she didn’t know, when Elena continued. “I kissed Liam after the Corn Maze.”

Caroline groaned - Elena obviously hadn’t told her that - and Bonnie could only gape at Elena. Just when Bonnie had thought that things couldn’t possibly get worse, Elena had to go and drop _that_ bomb. “Don’t tell Damon that.”

Elena spun around, looking triumphant and perhaps a little crazed. She shook what looked like her hospital ID at Bonnie like it was a weapon. “Because he’d kill Liam, right?”

Bonnie wanted to rip her own hair out. “Because it’d break his heart, Elena!”

Predictably, Elena didn’t have an immediate response to that because she clearly didn’t believe Bonnie. Her memory wipe was so complete it was staggering: Alaric had really erased every positive memory that Elena had ever had of Damon and unless he removed the compulsion, Elena was always going to think of Damon as an awful person. 

Bonnie hadn’t noticed how quiet her connection to Damon was until it suddenly surged in her head. He must be waking up and Bonnie got an idea. She gathered her stuff together - there wasn’t much, just her phone that she’d managed to bring back from 1994 in working order - and gestured to Caroline to get up so they could leave. Elena didn’t respond to Bonnie, continuing to gather her things while looking more annoyed than before. Bonnie tapped at her phone like she was typing out a text when really she was sending _Damon?_ across their connection.

A handful of moments passed, then _yeah?_ came floating into her head.

Bonnie grinned. _Elena’s picked up another shift at the hospital to avoid you. Caroline and I are going to go and get breakfast so if you want to catch Elena before she leaves…_

This time it barely took a second for _god, you’re the best_ to pop into her head. Elena was still rifling through her drawers to pack her bag and Bonnie hustled Caroline out of their room and shouted “bye, love you!” over her shoulder at Elena. No doubt Damon would whoosh his way right to their dorm in an effort to win Elena back. Now that she knew just how hard Elena was going to make that for him, Bonnie wasn’t sure he’d succeed after just one attempt. She had her fingers crossed for him all the same.

Whatever feelings that she might have for Damon - and Bonnie was beginning to realize that they were big, and overwhelming, and loud - they were irrelevant in the face of the love that he had for Elena. It might make her heart ache in her chest, but Bonnie was just going to have to make her peace with it.

Whitmore had cafes on pretty much every corner and she and Caroline found a nice one almost straight away, taking a seat outside in the sun. Bonnie was looking over the menu when Damon’s heartbeat rushed into her ears only to fade almost as quickly; he must have run past. _Thanks!_ popped into her head, confirming her suspicion, and Bonnie smiled. 

“What are you grinning about?”

Bonnie looked up at Caroline and instead of acting like she’d just been caught doing something strange, she shrugged. “It’s good to be back, that’s all.” Caroline smiled back at her and they ordered - Bonnie got pancakes and resolved to never tell Damon - and their food was just arriving when Caroline’s phone rang. She glanced down at the screen and her brow furrowed when she saw who was calling. 

Caroline flashed her phone at Bonnie and she saw that the caller ID said it was Matt. “Do you mind if I take this? It could be about Sarah.”

‘Sarah’ must be the girl that Elena had attacked at the border. Bonnie nodded and cut into her pancakes, taking her first bite. The pancakes that Damon had made the other day to say goodbye to Gail were better and she almost laughed around her mouthful. Practice made perfect. 

Though she hadn’t been paying attention to Matt’s voice even though she could hear it as if he were standing right next to them, Bonnie’s ears figuratively perked when she heard Enzo’s name and she looked at Caroline to see that she looked vaguely ill. Caroline asked, “What do you mean, Tripp has Enzo?”

Who the fuck was Tripp, and why the fuck did he have Enzo? 

Something told Bonnie that Caroline didn’t mean it in a nice, ‘having him over for drinks’ sort of way either. Bonnie swallowed her food and mouthed ‘what’s happening?’ at Caroline, who only waved a staying hand at her. If Caroline wouldn’t pay attention to her, at least Bonnie could fill Damon in on what was happening. No wonder they hadn’t been able to get a hold of Enzo before they got out of the Prison World. 

Bonnie hesitated, though. Damon would be in the middle of trying to win Elena back and Bonnie knew how important that was to him. But this was important too, especially if this Tripp guy was as unfriendly as he sounded. She braced herself and sent _Damon -_

Bonnie should have expected it when Damon barely took any time at all to respond with _I’m busy, Bonnie. Can it wait?_ but it still managed to annoy her. Did he really think she would interrupt if it wasn’t a potentially life-or-death situation? Well, whatever. They didn’t need Damon’s help. Bonnie focused on what Matt was saying on the other end of the phone.

“ - long story. Meet me at Alaric’s office?”

Caroline agreed and hung up, shoving her phone into her bag as she rose to stand, looking apologetically at Bonnie and their half-eaten food. “I know we were supposed to have a nice day together, but things just swerved towards the shit pile in a big way. Raincheck?” 

Pancakes forgotten, Bonnie stood too and grabbed her bag. “No, I’ll come with you, it’s fine -”

“Bonnie!”

Hearing that voice froze her pretty effectively in place and Bonnie looked at Caroline, feeling more than a little betrayed. Caroline only smiled sunnily at her. “It was supposed to be a surprise, but I texted Jeremy while you were in the shower.” Then Caroline must have noticed that Bonnie wasn’t exactly thrilled about that turn of events. “Was that… should I not have done that?”

Bonnie gritted her teeth and tried to smile back at Caroline, but it felt completely false on her face. She hadn’t even begun to plan what she was going to say to Jeremy yet. “It’s fine -” 

Big hands grabbed Bonnie’s arms, spinning her in place, and Bonnie found herself looking up - and _up,_ had he seriously gotten taller? - into Jeremy’s face. His eyes were the same warm brown as usual, though it was impossible not to see the pain in them. When he saw it was really her Jeremy made a choked noise and pulled her in tight and yeah, okay, maybe it was really fucking good to see him after all. Bonnie hugged Jeremy back almost as tightly.

And it did feel good, right up until Jeremy went to cup the back of her head. Bonnie flinched away instinctively, her body rebelling, because that was what Damon always did when he hugged her and for some insane reason she didn’t want to feel Jeremy’s hands on her in the same way. Jeremy didn’t notice or he just didn’t care, because he only shifted his grip on her and didn’t let go. 

Bonnie was about to pull away when Jeremy shifted a hand to cup her jaw, angling her head upwards so that he could kiss her. His other hand curved around her waist and Bonnie found herself sinking into it despite herself. When Jeremy’s thumb at her jaw encouraged her mouth open Bonnie let him do that too, responding in kind when he licked into her mouth. It felt so familiar that she might’ve gotten entirely lost in the kiss if someone hadn’t wolf-whistled at them as they walked past. Bonnie jumped away, face flaming, and Jeremy released his hold on her. He had a smirk firmly affixed to his face and Bonnie felt warm, unsure of how she felt now.

Or, that wasn’t true.

The way that Jeremy touched her had always been a huge turn on; he was big and unlike a lot of guys his age he was confident in it and knew how to use it. Jeremy had always made Bonnie feel small and delicate in the best way by moving her around how he liked and feeling even a little part of that just now had her blood thrumming underneath her skin. That had been a kiss that said ‘I missed you’, sure, but it was also a kiss that said ‘I want to bend you over a couch’, and Bonnie was more than a little tempted. To say that she wasn’t attracted to him anymore would be an outright lie. 

Jeremy’s smirk widened like he knew the effect he was having on her - she probably looked as punch drunk as she felt - and Bonnie grinned at him before she looked away. It would be a bad idea, for the both of them, if Bonnie gave into her lust right now. And where would they go, anyway? Damon was serenading Elena at their dorm and Bonnie wasn’t so desperate that she was going to let Jeremy fuck her in the cafe bathroom. 

Just because she was thinking about it didn’t mean that her feelings for him were rushing back and, if anything, the kiss had proven to Bonnie that she _didn’t_ love Jeremy. The entire time he’d been touching her, Bonnie had been thinking about how the touch would have felt different coming from Damon. What it would feel like to be kissed so possessively by him, instead of Jeremy. 

God, she was an awful person. 

Like the Universe was mocking her, Damon reached out over their connection with a soft _Bonnie -_ and she frowned, trying to project all of her annoyance at being ignored earlier in his direction. It was childish, but she didn’t care. Damon didn’t send anything else, so Bonnie considered it a message received.

For something to do, Bonnie sat back down and poked at her pancakes, which were long-cold now. Caroline was typically nowhere to be seen and Bonnie was annoyed to be left out of the loop when she could have helped. Jeremy sat down across from Bonnie and slouched back in the seat. He didn’t look any smaller for it and she laughed.

“When Stefan said that you’d been working out with Alaric, I didn’t realize he meant _this_ much,” and Bonnie gestured at the bulk of Jeremy, expecting him to laugh and he did, sort of, but it quickly turned into a frown.

“It was either that or drink myself into an early grave, which I sort of did anyway. Where have you _been,_ Bonnie?”

Just like that Bonnie felt sick with guilt. Jeremy had been here, mourning her in his own unique - and self-destructive - way and Bonnie had been spending her time flirting with Damon, cuddling Damon, sleeping with Damon. Grinding against Damon until they both came. There was no way that Bonnie would ever be able to tell Jeremy that without trampling all over his heart in the process and she couldn't meet his eyes, looking away to watch the students milling about. People were talking and laughing or running with their arms bursting with books and Bonnie felt separate from it all at the same time as she felt more grounded in herself than she had for a long time.

However she might feel about Jeremy, she owed it to him to be as honest as possible while also being considerate of his feelings. “Before the Other Side exploded, I saw my Grams. She said she had a plan, that she was going to help me find peace… instead of dying like I thought I would, I ended up in 1994.”

That got Bonnie a raised eyebrow and a bemused smile. “Find peace? Why the hell was Damon there, then? You hate him.”

Bonnie wasn’t going to shake off that assumption any time soon, was she? Being honest already felt harder because what she said next would expose her, even if it was in such a tiny way. “Um, well - I thought I was going to die, Jer, and it was terrifying. It didn’t matter that I’d done it before.” Bonnie paused and Jeremy was just watching her, dark eyes intent on her face. It was hard to tell what he was thinking or feeling and Bonnie wasn’t sure if it made the next words easier or harder to say. “We were holding hands, when it happened. I think that’s why Damon hitched a ride with me.”

Jeremy laughed and it took a moment for Bonnie to realize that he thought she was joking, that’s how far out of left field what she had just said was to him. That’s how outlandish the idea of Damon and Bonnie liking each other was, to Jeremy. Bonnie would have said that she tolerated Damon before, not necessarily that she hated him. Is that really what everyone thought? Had _Damon_ hated her, before? She’d have to ask him when he wasn’t being such a hosebeast. 

After a moment Jeremy’s laughter petered off and he looked at her, incredulous. “You’re serious?”

It would have been a pretty shitty lie and Bonnie shrugged, looking away from him again. “I couldn’t figure out why my Grams had sent us to 1994. There was an eclipse that would happen every day… After a while, we realized that was because we were reliving the same day, over and over again. _Then_ we found out that we weren’t alone in there. We were in 1994 because it was a prison for someone else, a guy named Kai.”

Bonnie hadn’t mentioned the repeating day thing to Caroline and Elena and now she got to watch confusion and disbelief play across Jeremy’s face as he worked to process what she’d just told him. Bonnie could sympathize, considering that she had lived it yet she didn’t fully understand it either. As Damon would have said, magic was bullshit.

If Jeremy was picking up on her use of ‘we’ and ‘us’, he chose not to comment on it. He must have decided on asking one question at a time because he frowned and asked, “Wait, why did the day repeat?”

Bonnie gave him another shrug. “No clue. But it turned out that Kai was a sociopathic serial murderer from Oregon, and he’s technically a witch but he doesn’t have magic unless he steals it from someone else.”

Maybe with each time she explained what she’d been doing the last week-slash-four-months it would get easier to talk about Kai, but for the moment Bonnie still felt scared and nauseous whenever she thought about him. Jeremy rocked back in his seat and looked around and Bonnie assumed he was processing what she'd just said; in a way, Bonnie had implied that Kai had stolen her magic. Bonnie was surprised when Jeremy grinned instead of being concerned like Caroline had been.

“I bet he and Damon got along well.”

Bonnie didn’t know if Jeremy was implying that Kai and Damon had something in common, but her hackles went up all the same and she looked at Jeremy dead on. “Damon hates him just as much as I do, actually, but I’m the one who killed Kai.” 

It was weirdly satisfying to see the surprise on Jeremy’s face and the way that he looked at her slightly differently, like he was finally noticing that she wasn’t the same girl who had always martyred herself for her friends. “You killed him? How?”

If only it had stuck. Bonnie shook her head and Jeremy frowned harder. “I got my magic back while we were there, and I killed him with a spell. Or a pickaxe, technically. But the coven who’d designed the prison made sure that Kai wouldn’t have an escape hatch. He could die, but he would always come back to life.”

Jeremy regarded her coolly for a moment before he broke eye contact, leaving Bonnie at a loss. Kissing Jeremy had sparked something in her, but it had already fizzled out again. Something told Bonnie that Jeremy had noticed, too. Bonnie reached for her phone to check the time - maybe she should text Caroline for an update? - and Jeremy watched her do it, huffing a laugh that didn’t sound at all amused. Bonnie looked up at him in askance.

“I paid your cell bill, you know.” Bonnie _had_ wondered why her phone had worked once they got back and she was about to smile, thank him, when he kept talking. “When drinking didn’t help me to forget how angry I was with you, I’d call you instead. Listen to your stupid six word voicemail and then ask you why you didn’t think to tell me that saving everyone was going to kill you.”

The world narrowed around her. “Jer -”

“I thought that you loved me enough to do that for me, Bonnie. To tell me in person, so I could say goodbye. But you don’t.”

 _Don’t,_ not didn’t. Without her having to say anything, Jeremy knew how she felt. Bonnie should feel relief but all she felt was agony, so acute it felt like a legitimate ache in her chest. They could have been so good for each other but things just kept fucking it up; eventually, it had just been too difficult to find their way back to each other. 

“I’m _sorry,_ Jer. I never meant to hurt you,” Jeremy scoffed and rolled his eyes and Bonnie wanted to be annoyed but she knew how weak that had sounded. Just because she hadn’t wanted to hurt Jeremy didn’t mean that wasn’t exactly what she’d done. “I did love you. I did. I should have handled that better, not that saying it now is worth anything.”

Using the past tense to describe her feelings for him hurt Bonnie as much as it liberated her and she watched as Jeremy made a face like he hadn’t expected her to admit it. Like he had expected that she would reassure him, insisting instead that she _did_ love him. If Bonnie didn’t feel like a completely different person, she might’ve done that. She might've tried to heal her relationship with him. But it would have been a lie, and as messy as this break was it was still cleaner than _that_ would have been.

Jeremy pushed back from the table with a squeal of metal on concrete and Bonnie looked up at him, unshed tears briefly obscuring her vision before she blinked them away. He looked absolutely devastated and Bonnie hated that she’d done that to him, but he was young. They both were. They had loved each other and it hadn’t worked out, but they’d meet other people. It wouldn’t be the end of the world for either of them and doing this sooner rather than later was for the best, no matter how much it might hurt right now. 

It would have been hard to blame Jeremy if he had just decided to walk off and leave her there with a pile of cold breakfast foods in front of her, so Bonnie was more than a little shocked when he looked down at her and said, “I’m gonna go get drunk. Wanna join me, for old time’s sake?”

They both knew it would act as a goodbye to their relationship, but Bonnie hoped that it could also act as the first step towards them finding their way back to a normal friendship. Bonnie lifted her phone and saw that it was just after three in the afternoon; she really _had_ slept in, but it was close enough to being a respectable time. She smiled up at Jeremy. “Yeah, sure.”

The closest bar on campus was just around the corner and somehow, despite the uncomfortable conversation they’d just had, it wasn’t an awkward journey there. That lasted about as long as it took to walk through the doors and see Liv, who paled like she’d seen a ghost. A fair reaction, considering that in a way, she had.

“Bonnie?” Liv lost her grip on the very full bottle she was holding, like her hands had gone slack against her will, and it began to fall. Without thinking about it, Bonnie held out a hand and the bottle froze in mid-air. Liv broke from her trance and looked at the floating bottle in surprise for only a moment before she reached out for it; a cursory glance around the room told Bonnie that no one had noticed anything out of the ordinary.

Feeling her powers coursing through her, so strong and sure, felt amazing, and Bonnie wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

In the space of a handful of seconds, Liv put the bottle down on the counter and rushed through the room - at a human speed, though she was still making strides - to literally pick Bonnie up off of the ground, almost smothering her in a hug. “You’re alive, you’re alive, I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I am _so_ sorry.”

Bonnie had never been close with Liv - they were barely acquaintances, before - but it was like she could feel the genuine relief radiating off of Liv and Bonnie found herself laughing as she hugged Liv back just as tightly. She had never made friends with another witch before… maybe now was as good a time as any? Liv pulled away enough that Bonnie could see that she was crying and it was instinct to pull her forward again and tangle a hand in that glorious mane of hair. “Hey, it’s fine! You’ve got nothing to apologize for. If you hadn’t stopped the spell the only difference would be that we’d both be dead, not just me.” At the word ‘dead’ Liv hiccuped on a sob and Bonnie shushed her. “It didn’t stick! Like you said, I’m alive.”

They pulled away from each other for real this time and Bonnie smiled at Liv, trying to demonstrate just how okay with everything she was. Bonnie didn’t hold it against Liv at all, and how could she? Bonnie had never really died. If anything, she’d just been given an opportunity to find herself. For that, she was almost grateful to Liv.

Jeremy’s voice broke them out of the weird, holding onto each other and smiling through their tears thing that they were doing. “Not that this isn’t fun to watch, but I’ve been told that I’m not allowed to drink alone anymore.” 

Something about the way he said ‘fun to watch’ made Bonnie think he really meant ‘hot to watch’ and she snorted, looking past Liv’s shoulder to see that Jeremy had taken the bottle Liv had almost dropped on the floor for himself; he was drinking directly from it, throat working. When Liv turned and saw him she scowled, back to the normal Liv instead of the soft, affectionate version that Bonnie had just been cuddle-assaulted by.

“You’re paying for that, jackass.”

Jeremy gave her the finger and Bonnie laughed, walking over to hop up onto the barstool next to him. The bottle he was drinking from was tequila, which was definitely not a good idea for Bonnie at this time of day. Liv rounded the bar and quirked an eyebrow at her. “What do you want?”

“Bourbon?” It had been a thoughtless request - Bonnie had started to like it after drinking it so often with Damon - but it was hard not to notice when Jeremy tensed beside her, like he knew exactly why she’d developed a taste for it. Bonnie ignored him because she didn’t have to justify her choices to him anymore, grinning at Liv when she poured Bonnie a glass. She drank half in one go and barely coughed and Liv raised both eyebrows at her this time, clearly impressed.

“What are we celebrating?” The ‘we’ got explained when Liv poured herself a glass of bourbon, which she sipped at.

Bonnie grimaced and Jeremy laughed, knocking back another swig of tequila before he almost shouted, “we just broke up!” Bonnie shushed him, casting her eyes around at the handful of people sitting at tables surrounding them - they were mostly studying, though why they’d choose to do that in a bar Bonnie didn’t know - to find the majority of them glaring at their little group. Bonnie raised her hand in a universal ‘sorry, ignore him, he’s an idiot’ gesture and turned back to Liv and Jeremy, swallowing another mouthful of bourbon. 

They’d been drinking and talking for an hour or so when a cautiously optimistic feeling _Bon?_ popped into her head and Bonnie had to muffle her groan against her glass. Half of her annoyance was directed at herself, this time, because she was tempted to respond just because Damon had used the shortened version of the nickname he’d already given her. He probably knew that it’d improve his chances, too, because Bonnie was bad at hiding how pleased she was whenever he used it.

Buzzed or not, she was just drunk enough to be petty. _I’m with Jeremy. Can it wait?_

Amusement bled across their connection and Bonnie waited for Damon to say something else, but he was obviously in the mood to respect her boundaries. Then Bonnie hid a laugh in her glass when their connection softened only a handful of minutes later: Damon was asleep. Considering how exhausted she still felt, Bonnie couldn’t blame him. It was like their bodies were trying to catch up with the most extreme jet lag ever, courtesy of the fucked up way time behaved in the Prison World. 

Liv must have been able to see that Bonnie was half asleep because she grabbed another bottle of bourbon - Jeremy was still nursing his same tequila bottle - and headed for the stairs that led up to the mezzanine level. Bonnie didn’t want to move and she groaned, moving to put her head down on the bar. Liv’s voice stopped her just in time. “Unless you want to be peeling your face off of that, I wouldn’t!” Bonnie sat up quickly and Liv snorted a laugh. “Come on, there’re booths upstairs. You can lie down and drink.”

Who was Bonnie to argue with that perfect logic?

They spent another few hours drinking like that, the bar slowly darkening around them, sprawled across a couple of booths and talking about nothing in particular. Liv was sitting close to Bonnie like she still couldn’t believe that she was alive and Bonnie decided that yeah, she and Liv were going to be friends. They had very similar sarcastic but secretly affectionate energies about them; they’d fit well together. 

Jeremy made an admirable - or a concerning? - dent in his tequila before he passed out, head tipped back as he snored. Bonnie watched him for a moment and she knew she was frowning but she couldn’t make herself stop. Liv nudged her in the thigh with her foot; she’d taken her boots off almost as soon as they’d come upstairs. “If you broke up, it was for a reason. Don’t let the booze tell you differently.”

Bonnie patted Liv’s foot more than a little drunkenly. She’d probably had enough to drink a glass or two ago but she’d kept going because whenever she stopped it was like her new vampire nature burned the alcohol right out of her, landing her straight back in the land of sober clarity. Bonnie didn’t really want to be there just yet. 

“No, I know. It’s just weird, right? We were together for years and now we’re just… not.” They’d sort of hit pause when Bonnie had died the first time, but she thought it still counted. Bonnie pushed her mostly empty glass around on the table, the sound of it on the wood vaguely settling. “I think I’ve forgotten how to be alone.”

The theory that the Universe loved to mock her gained more credibility when her connection to Damon suddenly became more solidified in her head, like he’d just woken up. It served as a reminder that while she and Jeremy might not love each other _like that_ anymore, Bonnie wasn’t really alone. She had Damon, even if it wasn’t quite in the same way.

When Bonnie looked at Liv, she had a sad smile on her face. “I’d tell you that being alone is better, but I’d be lying.” Liv put on a tough front but she needed to be cared for just the same as anyone else, Bonnie was realizing. Bonnie curled a hand around Liv’s ankle and almost clenched it in shock when Liv started to cry, mostly silent save for the heaving breaths she was taking in.

With the tiniest burst of vampire speed Bonnie moved to Liv’s side, pulling her close. “Woah, what’s wrong?” 

Liv sucked in her biggest breath yet and then, on the exhale, rushed out the words, “I killed someone the other day, Bonnie.”

For a few seconds, Bonnie had no idea what the most appropriate thing to say to that was. They lived different lives to most people they’d meet, but the majority of them didn’t make a habit of killing people in their regular day to day. Regardless, Bonnie’s first instinct wasn’t judgement because it was obvious just how much Liv regretted it, her reasons for doing it notwithstanding. Bonnie rubbed Liv’s arm. “How did it happen?”

It took Liv a minute to answer and Bonnie waited, patient, well-versed in ignoring Jeremy’s snoring in the background by now. “It was the night of the Corn Maze. Tyler was driving and someone ran out into the road… Tyler was looking at his phone, and he hit them.” Liv grabbed a tiny drink napkin and rubbed at her face like she was frustrated by the tears she couldn’t stop and Bonnie squeezed her tighter. “He swerved into the maze and almost crushed the guy. He was going to die, and Tyler’s werewolf curse would have been triggered again.”

Realization dawned on Bonnie. While Elena, Alaric and Jo had been saving everyone they could, Liv had taken matters into her own hands with the original victim of the crash. God, Liv was a strong woman but killing someone so the guy you had a crush on - Liv hadn’t said anything, but Bonnie could guess - didn’t have to suffer was next level badass, even if it was taking a toll on her. “You killed him so Tyler wouldn’t.”

Liv nodded and sucked in another deep breath, leaning her head on Bonnie’s shoulder. It seemed like she was done crying now but Bonnie didn’t move away; it was obvious that Liv needed the comfort. Neither of them said anything for a few minutes and Bonnie felt infinitely more sober than she had before, and it seemed like the conversation had the same effect on Liv. She gently disentangled herself from Bonnie and grabbed their glasses.

“I’ll go clean these up.”

Bonnie knew that being so vulnerable must have been hard for Liv and that she probably needed time to regroup so Bonnie smiled and nodded, reaching for her phone. Just as her fingers touched the plastic of her phone case, her connection to Damon went completely flat in her head; it was like a heartbeat flatlining. It startled her so much that she flinched, knocking her phone onto the floor. Liv paused on the stairs and Jeremy snorted himself awake.

“Wha - what’s happening?”

Dread filled Bonnie. When Damon was asleep, she could still feel him in her head. This was different, like he was unconscious. Like he was _dead_. Bonnie stared blankly ahead at the wall across from her. _Damon?_ No response, but it wasn’t like he was doing turnabout for earlier when she was ignoring him. Bonnie’s heart started to pound and she tried one last time, only vaguely aware of Jeremy and Liv both looking at her. _D? Please say something._

When she was only met with silence, Bonnie looked over at Jeremy and Liv. “Something’s wrong,” ready to put it down to witchy intuition if they asked, but her phone rang at almost the same time, vibrating across the floor with Elena’s name flashing on the screen. Bonnie lunged for it, stabbing at the answer button almost hard enough to dent the glass. “What happened?”

Instead of asking her how she knew anything was out of the ordinary, Elena started talking almost as soon as she heard Bonnie’s voice. “I was supposed to be meeting Damon in our dorm but when I got there the door was half open and he wasn’t there and maybe he just left but Bonnie I think something’s happened, I think someone _took him -_ ”

It had to be Tripp, the guy Caroline had mentioned earlier. Was he a vampire hunter? God, they all needed to be better at communicating. “Have you told the others?” Liv was back at the table now, her hand on Bonnie’s shoulder, and Jeremy was standing closeby. It managed to be soothing. 

“I called Ric first, he said that a hunter has Enzo and he probably took Damon too, that he’s going to take them to Mystic Falls.”

Bonnie couldn’t hear anything for a moment. If Damon and Enzo crossed the border into Mystic Falls, their magic would be stripped away from them bit by bit, an extreme and quicker version of what Kai had done to her in the Prison World. The wounds or illnesses that had killed them when they were human would take them once more, only this time it would be permanent. 

There was no way that Bonnie was going to let that happen. 

“Where’s Caroline? What are you going to do?”

“She’s on the phone to her mom, she’s going to block off one of the roads into town so he has to pick between two instead of three; we’re taking Old Miller Road and Stefan and Ric are taking the main road.”

Bonnie nodded, decided. “We’ll meet up with Alaric and Stefan.” Out the corner of her eye Bonnie could see Jeremy patting his shorts, looking for his keys. He came up empty and Bonnie could have screamed, but then Liv pulled her keys out of her pocket and relief almost slumped Bonnie over in the booth.

“Bonnie, _hurry_.”

The line went dead and Bonnie was up and out of her seat in the same breath, looking between Jeremy and Liv. “A hunter has Damon and Enzo and he’s going to take them across the border into Mystic Falls. Who’s sober enough to drive?” Bonnie was probably better off than the both of them but she felt so panicky that she didn't trust herself to be behind a wheel. Jeremy raised his hand and Bonnie looked at him. “Are you sure?”

“Passing out sobered me up, honest. Let’s go.”

And so they went, scrambling out of the bar to Liv's car. Bonnie still couldn’t feel Damon in her head and she hated it more than anything. She had no idea how much time they had, but Elena was right. They had to hurry, because Damon and Enzo’s lives literally depended on it.

\--

They mostly rode in silence, which wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as Bonnie thought it would be. She had claimed shotgun for herself without any complaint from Liv, who was sitting in the middle of the bench seat in the back but leaning as far forward as she could to see the road in front of them better.

Bonnie’s heart hadn’t stopped racing since her connection to Damon had dropped out. 

It still hadn’t come back and waves of nausea were rolling through her, every possible horrible scenario plaguing her mind. Yet while she panicked, she tried to reassure herself; Damon was over one hundred and fifty years old. He’d been around long enough that he wasn’t going to just let some good for nothing hunter get the better of him. It was likely his advanced age - ha! - would also slow the process of having his magic stripped away by the spell on Mystic Falls down, or at least that was what Bonnie kept telling herself.

That being said, Damon might not have a choice in the matter if he was chained up in a car hurtling towards the border of the town with no way of getting himself or Enzo free.

“How did you know?”

Jeremy breaking the silence startled Bonnie and Liv both: they flinched, twin gasps emerging from their mouths. They were already more than halfway to their destination, so Bonnie knew that she’d been given a longer grace period to explain on her own than what she had initially expected. The thing was, she didn’t have an answer that would satisfy Jeremy. “I just knew.”

“But _how?_ ”

Bonnie sighed, too worried to hide her unwillingness - and her inability - to come up with a better response. “I don’t know, Jer! Does it matter?”

If Jeremy knew the real reason why - that Bonnie and Damon were connected in ways that even they couldn’t begin to understand - she knew it _would_ matter to him. Jeremy tolerated Damon even less than Bonnie had before she’d landed in the Prison World and if Elena hadn’t been in love with him, once upon a time, Jeremy probably wouldn’t like Damon at all. Knowing that his newly minted ex-girlfriend technically shared a brain space with the guy? Yeah, Bonnie didn’t foresee that going well. Bonnie was thankful when Liv didn’t press the issue from the backseat.

They’d been driving faster than was strictly advisable since they’d left Whitmore and for the last ten minutes, they’d been driving behind a car that was going even faster than them. Bonnie was wondering, in a hysterical sort of way, if they were going to the same place when the car turned suddenly just ahead of them and oh, shit.

“Jeremy, that’s the turn off, turn -” and he took her at her word, yanking the wheel to the right and almost sending them hurtling into the night, saved only by their seatbelts. It was a blessing that there was barely any traffic on the road or they could have been dead before they were able to do anything to save Damon and Enzo. They drove for another tense handful of minutes when suddenly her connection to Damon shifted, like a dim light globe suddenly becoming bright again.

Bonnie was helpless not to clutch her chest with relief, ignoring Jeremy as he glanced at her in confusion before he focused back on the road. She didn’t give a shit what Jeremy thought, because Damon was alive.

 _Damon? Damon, where the fuck are you?_ It felt like she was shouting even in her own head and Bonnie didn’t know how to turn herself down because her relief was making her feel almost as nauseous as her panic and worry had.

_Bonnie -_

God, just hearing his voice in her head was incredible. _I was with Jeremy and then you dropped out of my head, what the FUCK is going ON -_

_BONNIE!_

Even though she wasn’t saying anything out loud, Bonnie’s mouth still snapped shut and she waited as patiently as she could, the headlights of Liv’s car illuminating the trees either side of the road and casting strange shadows every which way. They had to be getting close now and they were still following the same car that Bonnie had noticed earlier. What Damon said next only confirmed every fear that Bonnie had.

_We’re in the back of a van, driving towards the border. Might be curtain call for me._

Elena might have been right about Tripp having Enzo and Damon both, then, but Bonnie wanted to make sure. Things could get dicey if everyone thought they were together but really they weren’t, poised to cross the border into town at two separate points instead of the one that they were all planning for. _‘We’? You’re with Enzo?_

_Yeah._

Bonnie slumped in her seat. Now she just had to pray that they were heading to the right crossing point. While she might have faith in Elena and Caroline’s ability to handle the situation if Tripp was heading towards Old Miller Road, Bonnie would be lying if she said that she didn’t feel more comfortable coming to the rescue herself. Just hearing Damon’s voice in the echo chamber of her own panicked thoughts had soothed her beyond measure. 

That was until Damon’s pain and agony crashed into her. Stefan and Alaric must have failed to stop Tripp, and Bonnie could only assume that Tripp had crossed the border with Damon and Enzo in tow. Bonnie cried out and Liv’s hand closed around her shoulder at the same time as Jeremy turned his head to look at her and Bonnie pointed ahead, frantic. “Drive!”

The car they’d been trailing behind was already a couple of hundred feet ahead of them, rounding the bend in the road that came just before the jolly _Welcome to Mystic Falls!_ sign; the population figure hadn’t been changed since the Salvatores had returned to town, which someone should really get to sorting out. When they sped around the corner after it, Bonnie’s heart felt like it dropped directly into her stomach, because carnage lay ahead.

Damon was in pain because Tripp had gone over the border, alright: the van Damon and Enzo must be trapped in the back of was on its side in a ditch, the hood steaming. Alaric’s car had been nudged almost entirely off of the road; Tripp must have floored it after they’d stopped him and plowed right into it. Bonnie realized that she could only see everything so clearly because her vampire nature was enhancing her vision. The scene was still a ways ahead of them, and she couldn’t tell Jeremy to stop the car yet because it would mean whooshing to the van. 

Bonnie wasn’t ready to give herself away and she hoped that she wouldn’t need to; she could still feel Damon, so they must have time. 

Even from where they were Bonnie could see it when Stefan ripped the back doors of the van off. Landing her eyes on Damon only relaxed Bonnie a little; there was a bloody hole in his shirt and he looked pale, though Enzo looked worse as he coughed up dark blood. The car that they had been behind the entire journey from Whitmore screeched to a stop and a dark-haired woman burst out only seconds later, though she didn’t rush to the van like Bonnie thought she might. 

Then again, Bonnie couldn’t see Alaric. Maybe the woman in the car was Jo?

Jeremy hit the brakes when they were close enough to be useful and Bonnie saw that Damon was pointing Stefan towards Enzo, presumably telling Stefan to save him first. The car had barely slowed to a stop before Bonnie leapt from it. “Damon!” He didn’t look towards her and Bonnie made herself run at a normal pace, until she was right on the edge of the border.

It was possible to feel it directly in front of her, like a dense wall that radiated a strange cool feeling. When Bonnie heard a wet cough she looked to the side to see that Alaric _was_ also across the border, the woman from the car bent over him. She was surrounded by medical supplies - it must be Jo, after all - and Bonnie left her to it. Bonnie liked Alaric well enough, but she was focused on Damon and Enzo right now.

Bonnie had an idea. She lifted a tentative hand up in the air and imagined projecting her magic across the border, blindly searching for the wall. It felt like being stung by a bee - a lot of bees - when she hit it, but Bonnie felt like she could push her magic through just fine. If it was going to be the difference between saving Damon and Enzo and them dying, Bonnie was more than willing to try to reach them.

“Stefan!” The vampire in question was just releasing Damon from his chains and at the sound of her voice he turned, clearly surprised to see her. Bonnie didn’t have time to explain, nor did she care to. “Come back! I can bring them across the border.” 

When Stefan stopped trying to tug Damon free of the van Damon finally looked at her and Bonnie could see the relief on his face at the same time as she realized that she couldn’t feel it, or Damon’s presence at all, in her head. The anti-magic barrier had finally succeeded in stripping them of their connection to each other. Enzo was slumped on the ground and Bonnie knew that her window to save them was becoming narrower with every passing second. Stefan hesitated, clearly torn between trusting her to get the job done and saving his brother - and Enzo, by extension - himself. Damon weakly hit Stefan's arm.

“She has her magic back. Go.”

It was flattering, in an abstract sort of way, just how quickly Stefan moved back across the border after that. He bent double with his hands on his knees as the injuries that had killed him when he was human started to heal. Liv ran over to him and Stefan didn’t question her presence, only accepting her help as she led him to sit down facing his brother across the border. 

Damon and Enzo were both sitting on the ground, bleeding from their different wounds, looking less and less alert by the minute. Bonnie reached her magic out towards them and imagined wrapping big hands around their bodies, lifting them to safety. Damon made a startled noise when he began to levitate off of the ground whereas Enzo only managed a weak groan, halfway to unconsciousness already. Once she felt like she had a good enough grip on them both, Bonnie imagined yanking them towards her. 

They moved a few feet closer before stopping and while Bonnie felt strong, powerful, the spell was also taking a lot out of her. Lifting two grown men telekinetically was no small task and Bonnie knew that it was going to be a stretch to pull it off. When Liv brushed against her shoulder, Bonnie looked at her to see that Liv had her own hands outstretched. “Two witches are always better than one, right?”

Bonnie grinned and tried again, Liv imitating her hand movements: an outstretched arm with an open palm facing Damon and Enzo, followed by a clenched fist that was yanked towards the chest. Liv and Bonnie almost grunted in sync with the effort and with a tumble, and more than a few flailing limbs, Damon and Enzo landed back on the side of the border that wasn’t actively trying to kill them. Stefan rushed to his brother’s side and Damon coughed once, hard, before he looked up at Bonnie from his position sprawled on the road. He smiled hugely at her and Bonnie didn’t know whether she wanted to laugh or cry.

There was no time to feel relieved, because the driver’s side door of the van flew into the air as it was kicked out. The man Bonnie could only assume was Tripp pulled himself out of the wreckage and when he made to run further into Mystic Falls, the rage that flowed through Bonnie almost literally made her see red. She was reaching her hand out again before she’d really thought about it.

The movement of the spell was largely the same as before and Tripp shouted in shock when he felt an invisible hand wrap around his torso. The only difference was that this time, when Bonnie clenched her fist, she imagined bones breaking. Nothing too vital - only his arms - but Tripp’s shout turned into one of agony as he was dragged closer and closer to the border before he crossed it, pained tears streaming unbidden down his face. Bonnie barely blinked as she met his eyes.

“Who the -” he sucked in a thin breath, “- fuck are you?”

Bonnie smiled. “Bonnie Bennett. We haven’t met.” Tripp paled, like he could hear the boiling anger in her voice and he knew it was all directed at him.

“Bonnie?” That was Damon, and he already sounded better. Bonnie took her eyes away from Tripp without releasing the magical hold she had on him and saw that Liv had moved away to help Jo tend to Alaric, though she kept sending worried looks Bonnie’s way, like she wasn’t sure what Bonnie was going to do to Tripp. Bonnie herself hadn’t decided yet. The magic it was taking to maintain her hold on him wasn’t insignificant and Bonnie felt her control slipping as Tripp squirmed, making a pained noise, like he was planning to use her distraction to his advantage. Bonnie tightened her fist and heard more bones snap in his arms. Damon must have actually expected a response, because his voice was slightly louder this time. “Bonnie, baby?”

_Baby?_

As soon as she looked at Damon she knew she hadn’t misheard him because his face was flooding with color; he obviously hadn’t meant to say that. Knowing it wasn’t deliberate didn’t make Bonnie feel any less warm. She had no idea where Jeremy was and she stretched her hearing enough to locate him back at Liv’s car, on the phone to Elena. There was no way Jeremy could have heard Damon and Bonnie was more than glad for it, until she realized that there was very little chance that Stefan _hadn’t_ heard it. Bonnie stopped herself from looking at him to check, instead focusing on actually responding to Damon with words instead of just over their connection.

“Yeah?”

Damon was lying back, propped up on his elbows. Enzo was sitting beside him looking like he was trying not to laugh as he let his body heal itself; there was a distressing amount of blood splashed down the front of his shirt. Bonnie made herself look at Damon’s face even as she kept her fist tight. There was no way that Tripp was getting away and Damon looked from her to Tripp before frustration passed over his face, like he hated the words that were about to come out of his mouth. “Please put the mean man down.” 

The suggestion of not punishing Tripp was enough to make Bonnie tighten her hold, Tripp grunting in pain with the movement, and Damon rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, Bon, he’ll get his. You don’t have to be the one to do it. Besides -” and Damon rubbed beneath his nose and Bonnie didn’t get what he was trying to say until she tasted her own blood on her upper lip; her nose was bleeding, a sure sign that the magic she was using was on the verge of being too much for her.

When Bonnie wiped at the blood with her free hand, she saw just how much there was and she felt herself sway in place. “Oh.” 

Bonnie released her hold on Tripp at the same time as she willed him unconscious, exhaustion flooding her entire body immediately after. Her legs gave out from beneath her and just before she hit the road, Damon whooshed forward to catch her. Bonnie was sitting between his outstretched legs - he must have just thrown himself forward instead of actually getting up first - and Damon wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on her shoulder. Dizziness kept Bonnie from opening her eyes when she turned her face towards him, and Damon moved to lean his forehead against her own.

It was one thing to hold each other like this while they were in the Prison World, but it was another thing entirely to do it in the view of Stefan, and Liv, and _Jeremy._ Bonnie felt too drained to care, only absently aware of Stefan as he picked Tripp up off of the ground and walked off with him without a word or a backwards glance. One of Damon’s hands shifted to cup the back of her neck and Bonnie exhaled as calmness washed over her. 

Jo and Liv made relieved - elated, really - noises from nearby and Bonnie turned her head to look. She could smell a lot of blood that must belong to Alaric soaking into the grass and the man in question was breathing strangely, but not like he was about to die. Jo started telling Liv how they could best move Alaric into her car to take him to the hospital and Bonnie was shifting to help when she felt fangs sinking into her neck. 

An appropriate reaction would be shock, but Bonnie knew exactly what was happening. As Damon’s emotions began to filter back into her head - some residual pain, but also joy and relief and something warmer, something richer that she couldn’t identify - Bonnie slumped like a ragdoll, her eyes almost entirely closed. Damon shifted to yank the sleeve of his leather jacket up his arm so he could hold his bare wrist in front of her mouth.

_Quickly - Stefan’s helping Liv and that hot nurse lady with Ric and Jeremy’s still on the phone._

Damon didn’t mention that Jeremy was on the phone _to Elena_ and Bonnie wasn’t in the mood to question that as her fangs dropped. The fact that Damon wanted to feed on her - and for her to feed on him in return - just so they wouldn’t be alone in their own heads made Bonnie feel like her blood was buzzing in her veins. She pulled Damon’s arm closer and bit down, sagging against him even further as his blood hit her mouth. 

Their connection snapped back into place and she finally felt settled again. Then she laughed as much as she could over their connection. ‘ _Baby’, really?_

Embarrassment that didn’t belong to her flared in Bonnie’s mind and Damon shifted his grip on her neck to tug at a strand of her hair. _Shut up. It worked, didn’t it?_

There wasn’t really anything Bonnie could say in her defence, was there? Damon had used a petname to get her to stop crushing a guy to death, and she’d listened. She had _liked it._

“Well, aren’t you lovely.”

Bonnie had no idea how she’d forgotten about Enzo, or how  _ Damon  _ had forgotten about Enzo. She blinked her eyes open to see him watching her and the way she was clearly feeding from Damon with fangs of her own, instead of just drinking the blood that welled up to the surface when a vampire bit into their own wrist. Enzo had found out that she was a vampire - even if he didn't know the full story - when they had shared a dream that first time, but Bonnie imagined that knowing wasn’t quite the same as seeing it in action. Damon pulled back from her neck and Bonnie’s eyelids fluttered as he licked over the wound to make it heal faster and Enzo smirked; Bonnie felt even warmer, all of the sudden.

Enzo’s eyes darkened even further when Bonnie maintained eye contact with him as she pulled away from Damon’s wrist, licking his wound closed even though it would have healed on its own. Bonnie let go of Damon’s arm and he flexed his hand as Bonnie cleaned his blood off of her fangs before she willed them to retract back into her gums. Damon hadn’t shielded his emotions from her yet and Bonnie could feel his uncertainty, like he didn’t know the appropriate course of action here either. 

They were both just watching Enzo and Damon hadn’t pulled away from her any further than was necessary; his legs were still penning her in and he had one arm around her waist. In the end, Bonnie just sighed. “You can’t tell anyone, Enzo.”

For some reason that made Enzo grin. “No, that’d spoil the fun, wouldn’t it?” 

Before Bonnie could formulate an appropriate response to _that_ she heard Jeremy calling her name uncertainly from behind them, near enough that he’d be able to see the way she and Damon barely had any space between them at all. Enzo stood and offered Bonnie and Damon both a hand, a small smile still on his face. His palm was warm when she took it and Damon must be feeling sore still - Bonnie didn’t have an explanation otherwise - because he took Enzo’s other hand without complaint.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise when Enzo pulled them both up roughly enough that they stumbled into him; Enzo caught Bonnie with a hand against her hip and she assumed that he was bracing Damon the same way. Bonnie had to cross her eyes to look at Enzo, they were standing so close, their noses almost touching. Damon was angled so that he was pressed into Bonnie and Enzo almost the same amount.

Bonnie could feel Enzo’s voice in her _bones_ when he said, barely above a whisper, “hello, sweetheart,” and she swayed into him even further, only jumping away when Jeremy called her name again, this time more insistently. Damon moved away from Enzo too, like he’d been caught in the same hypnotic spell as she was. His mental wall went up moments later and Bonnie made sure to shield her thoughts as well, just in case.

Damon turned around properly and looked at Jeremy, scowling like Jeremy had interrupted something. Bonnie thought that maybe he had. “What is it, Little Gilbert?”

The frown Jeremy was wearing deepened even further and he gestured around them; Alaric’s car was gone, so Bonnie assumed that Stefan had taken it and Tripp… somewhere. Jo’s car was gone too and Liv and Alaric were nowhere to be seen. Bonnie didn’t know if anyone had updated Elena and Caroline but hopefully they knew that the day had been saved. Which left them with Jeremy, and Liv’s car keys that were dangling from his finger. “We’ve gotta go.”

Tripp’s overturned van made an ominous noise from behind them and Bonnie jumped, startled, only to feel two different hands land on her body to settle her; one at the nape of her neck and the other at her waist. A quick glance confirmed that Damon and Enzo had both reached for her and Jeremy was watching them with a focus that made Bonnie feel uncomfortable, like he was coming up with a whole lot of questions that she wouldn’t want to answer. _Ever._

Drinking what little she had from Damon had worked to reestablish their connection as well as replenishing the strength she had lost from the magic she’d used to get him and Enzo - and Tripp - back over the border. It meant that Bonnie was able to walk towards Liv’s car on relatively steady legs. Damon and Enzo had mostly healed back to their normal selves and they kept pace with her the whole way back to the car, like they were ready to catch her if she fell. 

That feeling of warmth? It hadn’t gone away, not even a little, and Bonnie forced herself to sit in the passenger seat even though she really wanted to sit in the back, hemmed in between the two vampires she had just saved from certain death.

Jeremy slammed the door far harder than he needed to when he got in beside her, clearly angry about something as he started the car. They tore away from the smoking wreck behind them and headed for Whitmore to regroup and presumably figure out what the fuck to do with the injured hunter they’d captured. Finding out where the other hunters were hiding would no doubt be the first order of business; Bonnie had even more of a vested interest in that now that she was sort of a vampire herself.

When Bonnie looked in the rearview mirror a handful of minutes later, it was to find that Damon and Enzo were both already looking at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter... is a bit of a beast! I regret nothing; I'm really happy with how it turned out.
> 
> As always, let me know your thoughts by either commenting or leaving kudos (both, if you're feeling lovely!). 
> 
> If you'd like to chat with me about the fic or just receive updates/excerpts, you can follow me on twitter [@bonbennetts](https://twitter.com/bonbennetts) and my tumblr is [@bonbennett](https://bonbennett.tumblr.com/)💓


	17. all anchor & no white flag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bed sharing and fundraisers, oh my!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'Trespassing at Noontide' by Meg Day.

**bonnie -**

Where the drive to save Damon and Enzo had been weirdly comfortable - save for Jeremy asking Bonnie how she’d known something was wrong before Elena called - the drive back to Whitmore was so awkward that Bonnie didn’t know what to do with herself besides sit and stare out the windshield. Jeremy was radiating so much pent up emotion that Bonnie felt like anything she could say would be the metaphorical pin in the balloon. 

It would be naive to think that the majority of Jeremy’s apparent bad mood wasn’t a direct result of seeing Bonnie and Damon wrapped up in each other, and as embarrassed as she was that he’d seen them like that Bonnie wasn’t in the mood to apologize for it. Not when feeling Damon’s arms around her - and his fangs in her neck - had relaxed her so effectively when she’d worried that he was going to die for real. It was even harder to regret it when she knew that it had relaxed Damon just as much.

Ever since they'd put Tripp’s van behind them, Bonnie hadn’t been able to stop herself from looking in the rearview mirror every couple of minutes. 

It was like she had to keep reassuring herself that Damon and Enzo were really alive. Now Bonnie knew how everyone else felt seeing her and Damon living and breathing after four months of thinking the worst. She looked again and saw that Damon and Enzo were still where she’d left them; Enzo’s eyes were closed though he was still smirking, and Damon was doing suspiciously long blinks like he was on the verge of falling asleep.

Bonnie would have felt stupider about needing the sight of them to reassure her if Damon hadn’t smiled at her every single time that their eyes had met so far.

Sometime around the fifth or tenth or twentieth time she looked back and got caught in the act, Damon sent _not going anywhere, Bon_ over their connection. The warmth that had been working its way around Bonnie’s body ever since Damon had pressed his forehead to hers redirected itself to her cheeks and she darted her eyes away, focusing on the road ahead. Amusement flickered across their connection and Bonnie smiled to herself, uncaring if Damon could see it in the rearview mirror.

They’d been driving through the campus for a few minutes when Jeremy suddenly swung the car into park behind the bar. Bonnie was so distracted she had to catch herself on the dash to stop herself from being thrown around, her seatbelt notwithstanding. A hand on her shoulder clamped her in place - it must have been Damon - and Enzo went from mostly asleep to awake in under a second, reaching a hand out towards her too like his instinct was to protect her.

“Careful, mate!”

When Bonnie looked over at Jeremy, hair messy around her face, he looked just as mad as he had half an hour ago; his voice was almost entirely devoid of emotion when he apologized. Bonnie’s hopes of finding a middle ground with him, something tentative like friendship, were swirling down the drain right before her eyes. The grimace on Jeremy’s face when he looked at her and spotted Damon’s hand was severe enough that Damon actually let go of her, the sound of his seatbelt disengaging loud in the night.

Jeremy looked from Bonnie to the bar. The lights were on and the music was making the air vibrate despite the relatively late hour, though that could have just been her vampire hearing. His phone buzzed and he looked at the screen. “Elena and Caroline are inside. Are you coming?”

Bonnie knew that she should. The night had been stressful for everyone and it’d be good to talk things out; the worry that Damon and Enzo were going to die, the capture of Tripp, Alaric’s near death experience. Damon wasn’t saying anything across their connection that might influence her decision but Bonnie turned to look at him anyway. Jeremy’s resultant laugh was so loud and humorless that she flinched.

“Right. Never mind.”

Jeremy yanked the keys out and threw himself from the car, slamming the door as he walked towards the back entrance of the bar. He didn’t look back once and Bonnie’s heart felt like it was breaking all over again, though this time she wasn’t exactly sure why. Bonnie blinked into the darkness of the night - street lamps were weirdly spaced out around campus - and considered her options.

There was her dorm, of course, but if Elena and Caroline were inside the bar Bonnie would probably be alone for another few hours at least if she went there. There was no point trying to convince herself that spending time on her own was something she wanted to do right now. 

No, if she was being honest with herself, Bonnie wanted to stay with the two vampires whose eyes she could feel burning into her back. Bonnie turned in her seat and hugged the headrest so she could look at them.

They… made for a pretty grisly sight. Damon was better off than Enzo in that he only had a bloody mark on his shirt from his supernatural bullet hole, whereas there was an inky black strip down the center of Enzo’s shirt from where he’d been coughing up blood. It might be the middle of the night, but Bonnie doubted that even intermittent lighting would save them from scaring some poor freshman if they tried to go into the bar. 

Like she had said that out loud, Damon looked down at himself and pulled a face as his hand plucked at the fabric of his shirt. “I know I stole this from some random guy, but it was growing on me.” Bonnie understood why: the look he was rocking prior to the unfortunate blood stain was very James Dean-esque. It hadn’t helped him to win Elena back, but then she had always been frustratingly stubborn. 

Enzo sighed heavily, rolling his neck until it cracked. “Well, I don’t know about you two, but I need a nap.”

It was no wonder, considering Enzo had healed all on his own without drinking from someone to help things along. Bonnie thought about offering her wrist to him and imagined what Enzo’s fangs sinking into her skin would feel like; that warmth from earlier returned tenfold. Bonnie thought that it surely must be radiating off of her, obvious to Damon and Enzo both. Her mental walls were up but Damon still looked at her like he could hear every thought she was having, bright blue eyes intent on her face.

The scrutiny made her want to squirm and Bonnie looked to the bar. Then she looked back at Damon with more than a little surprise. “You don’t want to go and see Elena?” After all, it was Damon not being at her dorm when he said he would be that had alerted everyone to the fact that something was wrong. Beyond Bonnie just _knowing_ , of course.

Bonnie had thought Damon would say yes, but instead he pulled a face. “She’s already metaphorically kicked me in the balls once today… one more time and they’ll be in my throat.” Bonnie snorted out a laugh and Damon smiled. “I’ll go and see her in the morning.”

The resignation in his voice made Bonnie feel even worse for him than she already did. He loved Elena so much, and she hadn’t even wanted to see him. Just because she had apparently changed her mind didn’t mean that things would change; finally seeing Elena face to face wasn’t a guarantee that her memories of loving him would come rushing back to the surface. After the day he’d had Bonnie couldn’t blame Damon for not wanting to put himself through that again.

Damon got out of the car and opened Bonnie’s door for her; he stopped short of offering her a hand but something told Bonnie that he was tempted. She felt fine though, like she hadn’t expended a huge amount of energy and magic in the name of saving the lives of two vampires and almost ending the life of a hunter. If she hadn’t fed from Damon it’d probably be a different story and she knew that.

Enzo, however, whooshed around the car and held his hand out to her. Bonnie laughed and took it, not surprised this time when he pulled her close. He squeezed her hand once and let go and Bonnie found it difficult to move away from him, even as she knew that Damon was watching her. Watching _them._

There was only so long that she could stand there staring at Enzo as he grinned at her, so Bonnie stepped to the side so that there was a respectable foot or two of distance between them. Then she looked at Damon, considering he was acting like he had an idea of where to go.

As soon as Damon felt her eyes on him he started talking. “I woke up in an apartment this morning… not sure if it was Lexi’s or Stefan’s, but I’m crashing there regardless. Who’s coming?”

Bonnie opened her mouth to reply when she saw someone approaching out the corner of her eye; it was a girl she didn’t recognize. She was about their age - or, Bonnie’s age - either a freshman or a sophomore, and she looked poised to ask them a question when Damon and Enzo turned towards her. Then her expression quickly transformed into one of terror and Bonnie guessed that the girl was maybe two seconds away from screaming for help; the blood on Damon and Enzo’s shirts was never going to be a good look outside of October 31st.

It was instinct to whoosh over to the girl. 

Bonnie put her hands on the girl’s shoulders when she tried to flinch away and willed the girl to meet her eyes. If it had been Damon or Enzo the girl might have resisted but Bonnie was the same height as her; eye contact was harder to avoid. As soon as Bonnie’s eyes locked on the girl’s own - they were a dark brown - it was like something clicked into place, only mentally. 

Vampires made this look so easy. Bonnie took a deep breath and just went for it. “Everything is fine. You never saw us… just keep going wherever you were heading,” and the girl was already nodding along to the smooth cadence of Bonnie’s words, her eyes weirdly blank even as her pupils shrunk and then grew larger.

Bonnie let her go and watched in a sort of detached amazement as she just walked off, not looking back at their little trio once. Trying to compel the girl had been dangerous considering that Bonnie had no idea if it was going to work or not, but hey. No risk, no reward. A burst of air against her sides made her dress flow upwards and Bonnie smoothed it down; Damon and Enzo had both moved to stand beside her almost in sync with one another.

Damon nudged her shoulder and Bonnie knocked into Enzo, who caught her with a hand on her hip before he let her go. “You’re about as good at that as I would have expected.”

Enzo nudged her and Bonnie went back the other way, knocking into Damon’s side. Damon steadied her with a hand on her waist and Bonnie had to stop herself from leaning into him. “Being a vampire suits you, love.”

It felt a lot like they were both proud of her, impressed by her, and Bonnie smiled into the night. The idea of staying with Damon and Enzo in an apartment away from everyone else, however platonically, probably wasn’t a good one. Her friends - and Jeremy - were inside the bar and that’s where Bonnie should be, too. Or, if she were smart, Bonnie would send Damon and Enzo on their way and go back to her dorm and sleep off the insanity of the night alone. 

Hell, that’s what a good girl would do. But Bonnie was finding that playing the part of the good girl was feeling less and less like _her_ lately. She wanted to stay with Damon and Enzo and she didn’t care if that was weird, or if her friends wouldn’t understand. Or at least she didn’t care right now.

Damon was getting better at reading her without needing the help of her thoughts, because he nudged her into Enzo again. When he spoke Bonnie could hear the laughter in his voice. “Come on, Bon. He already -”

Just like that, Bonnie knew what Damon was going to say and she started to giggle. Enzo turned his head to look at her bemusedly and Bonnie only laughed harder. Damon was laughing too hard to get the rest of the words out. When she had sucked in a big enough breath that she’d actually be able to talk, Bonnie finished Damon’s sentence: “- thinks we’re fucking.”

They started laughing even louder, leaning on each other far more than was necessary. Through her tears Bonnie could see that Enzo was looking at them with a strange combination of fondness and amusement, apparently unbothered to be left out of the joke even as he said, “I feel like there’s a story there.”

It was difficult but Bonnie made herself stop laughing, Damon quieting down beside her too. Just because she was half-decent at compulsion didn’t mean that Bonnie wanted to draw unnecessary attention to them; there were still a few people out and about, staying up late to study or walking past in rowdy groups of drunk friends. They weren’t exactly out in the open in the parking lot, but it was better not to take stupid risks. 

Bonnie looked at Damon and wiped at the tears trailing down her face; he was grinning hugely, blue eyes sparkling with mirth. If she laughed like that every day, she’d have abs in no time. “Okay, let’s go. Where is it?”

Not that she had expected him to, but Damon made no comment about her caving so easily. If she didn’t want to be apart from him right now, Bonnie guessed that Damon felt the same. He grinned at her. “You can both hear my heartbeat?” It was a weird question, but Bonnie nodded and saw Enzo do the same. “Then follow me.”

Damon disappeared, except that he didn’t: Bonnie’s eyes tracked his progress across the grassy quad of their own volition and she laughed as she took after him. It was like her new predatory instincts activated, allowing her to focus on his heartbeat and follow him with ease as he ran towards the edge of the campus. Enzo was right on her heels and Bonnie muffled a shout when he poked her in the side, overtaking her to pursue Damon.

With a burst of speed Bonnie managed to get ahead of Enzo. It took her a moment to realize that Damon’s heartbeat was getting closer and Bonnie didn’t have time to slow herself down properly before Damon caught her with his arms around her waist. Her dress flew up in the air and Bonnie shrieked, the sound dissolving into laughter as Damon squeezed her tight to his body for a moment before he released her. Damon kept his hands on her waist until she could stand solidly on her own and Bonnie was beyond denying that she loved the feeling of him touching her. She grinned up at him.

“My turn,” and Bonnie found herself being lifted off of the ground again as Enzo appeared next to her; for a single, exhilarating moment she was floating untethered when Enzo threw her up in the air, only to feel his hands back at her waist a breath later. Years of cheerleading experience stopped Bonnie from flailing or kicking him anywhere tender, though her surprise meant that she gripped Enzo tight when she was back on solid ground.

It was mildly terrifying to realize that if she enjoyed touching Damon, Bonnie didn’t enjoy touching Enzo - or being touched _by_ him - any less. 

The apartment building Damon had stopped at was well-lit, enough so that anyone who happened past would see just how disheveled Damon and Enzo looked. It meant that Damon quickly opened the door and whooshed upstairs. Enzo released Bonnie and she followed after Damon, coming to a stop in the middle of a living room. Bonnie stretched her hearing to see if Lexi was around but their staggered heartbeats were the only ones that she could hear.

Damon was already rifling through a bag of things and Bonnie blindly caught what he threw at her; a glance down revealed one of Damon’s shirts. It smelled strongly of him, spice and warmth, and Bonnie heard the front door close behind her as Enzo came inside.

It was getting easier to read Damon and understand what he meant without words, but Bonnie was confused. “What -” 

Enzo stood beside her and got the same treatment from Damon: a shirt thrown blindly in his direction. He caught it and looked at it in his hands with a raised eyebrow. Damon turned to face them and reached behind his head to pull his own shirt off - he’d tossed the leather jacket onto the couch before they’d caught up to him - and Bonnie’s mouth went dry as his torso was revealed inch by inch, his abs bunching with the movement. When Damon’s head emerged his hair was artfully tousled and god, he was stupidly attractive.

_Perv._

Bonnie snorted and looked away, ignoring Enzo’s confused look. Damon pointed at her. “You hate sleeping in a bra and you -” Damon pointed at Enzo, who was staring at Bonnie like he’d just seen her for the first time. All of the blood in her body had redirected to her face; she was light-headed with something that wasn’t quite embarrassment. “ - don’t like being blood-crusty. So: my shirts.”

It felt like Enzo was forever smirking at her. He dropped the shirt Damon had given him onto the couch and pulled his own ruined shirt off and jesus, why did he look like a model too? What about that was _fair?_ Hearing the rich timbre of Enzo’s voice as he said, “I’d _love_ to know how Damon knows that, sweetheart,” wasn’t helping things either.

The endearment made Bonnie’s breath catch and she hated that they could both hear it at the same time as she really didn’t. Damon just grinned at her and walked into what looked like a bedroom. After a few seconds his voice drifted out towards them. “You spend four months with a girl and you learn a few things.”

Enzo raised an eyebrow at her, considering, and Bonnie was finding it difficult to look away from him. It was enough of a struggle to keep her eyes above his shoulders; he was broader than Damon, his chest just hairy enough to do it for Bonnie. When her phone vibrated in the pocket of her dress Bonnie almost lunged for it and Enzo laughed as he pulled on the shirt Damon had given him.

There was a text from Caroline: _where r u???_

Bonnie didn’t have time to respond before another text came in, this one reading: _if ur w Damon just a heads up: Ric not vampire anymore cant take back compulsion_

Oh, shit. Bonnie didn’t think she made a noise but Enzo’s fingers grazed her waist and Damon stuck his head out of the bedroom, a toothbrush dangling from his mouth. “What’s wrong?”

Bonnie wished that she didn’t have to tell Damon. It wasn’t necessarily the end of the world - just because Alaric couldn’t give Elena her memories back didn’t mean that she wouldn’t love Damon again in her own time - but it definitely made things more difficult. Damon was going to have to start from square one with her.

“Bon?”

Bonnie searched for a way to say it gently and came up short. “When Alaric crossed the border...” Damon nodded, gesturing for her to continue. Bonnie knew that she had to rip off the bandaid so she forced the next words out as quickly as she could. “He’s not a vampire anymore, Damon.”

It was obvious that Damon didn’t understand why that was significant, at first. If Caroline hadn’t explicitly told Bonnie that Alaric couldn’t remove Elena’s compulsion anymore she was sure that she wouldn’t have understood immediately either. Bonnie got to watch as Damon connected the dots and it made her heart ache; when he realized what it meant for his chances with Elena, Damon sagged against the doorframe. “He can’t take back Elena’s compulsion.”

“I’m so sorry, Damon.” Bonnie wanted to go to him, to offer whatever comfort she could, but she didn’t know what would be appropriate in front of Enzo, or what Damon would allow. Damon saved her from herself by nodding before he turned and walked back into the bedroom. He didn’t have to lower his mental walls for Bonnie to know just how agonised he felt. Even if she didn’t feel one hundred percent comfortable hugging Damon just now, there was no way that Bonnie was going to leave him here alone.

The dress she’d thrown on that morning - early afternoon, really - was a light fabric that didn’t have any zippers. She was still holding the shirt that Damon had given her in one hand and she dropped it onto the coffee table as Enzo collapsed onto the couch, apparently claiming it for the night. Bonnie considered her options: either she could get changed right where she was, in front of Enzo, or she could go into the bedroom to get changed in front of Damon.

Was it really that different to them taking their shirts off in front of her? As soon as Bonnie slipped the straps off of her shoulders and felt Enzo’s eyes warm on her, she knew that it was. 

If she hadn’t felt exposed enough just by that simple action, Damon appearing in the doorway of the bedroom in nothing but tight black briefs was on another level entirely. Even though it didn’t feel sleazy to have their eyes on her Bonnie froze all the same, heat rushing to her face for what felt like the hundredth time that night. She’d only just broken up with Jeremy. Having the eyes of two vampires on her at once the very same day was a _bit_ much.

Damon always knew what she needed, Bonnie was finding. He took his eyes off of her to look at Enzo. “Let her get changed, will you?” 

Enzo looked over at Damon - his eyes shifting away from her lowered Bonnie’s body temperature by about five degrees - and his expression when he saw how little Damon was wearing was no less heated. _That_ was interesting. 

With a sigh that didn’t sound all that put out, Enzo got up and moved towards the bedroom. The moment his back was to her Bonnie pulled her dress down her body, the fabric pooling around her feet on the floor. Then she whooshed to get Damon’s shirt on.

The material was loose around her shoulders but tighter across her chest, and it fell just past her hips; the barest amount of her plain black underwear was showing beneath it. If Bonnie had known how tonight was going to pan out she would have worn something nicer. She put her arms up the back of the shirt to get at the clasp of her bra, unhooking it and pulling it out from beneath the shirt. There wasn’t really anywhere to put it so Bonnie just dropped it on the couch, looking up to find Damon and Enzo both watching her.

Enzo smirked before he turned around and disappeared. Bonnie heard the water running in the bathroom shortly after, so she assumed that Enzo was brushing his teeth. The water cut off and Enzo didn’t emerge from the bedroom, so he’d obviously decided to forego the couch.

Damon was still looking at her, eyes steadfastly focused on her face. _Matt didn’t pack any shorts, sorry._

Bonnie shrugged at him, the ribbed fabric of the shirt he’d given her dragging across her chest in a way that shouldn’t have been arousing yet somehow was. _You’ve seen me in less._

As soon as she thought it Bonnie wanted to slap herself - what about Damon made her feel so reckless? - but Damon’s gaze on her darkened, his eyes moving slowly across her chest and down to her bare legs. Bonnie made to sit down on the couch, annoyingly flustered by the heat of his gaze on her. If Enzo was going to stay in the bedroom with Damon, she’d stay out here. Or she would have, if Damon’s voice hadn’t stopped her before her ass hit the cushions.

“Hey, no. There’s enough room.”

They both knew there wasn’t. Bonnie gave up on sitting down so she could stare at Damon instead, unsure what her face was doing. Bonnie had thought that sleeping beside Damon in the Prison World would have been something that _stayed_ in the Prison World. Damon asking her to do it here, _with_ Enzo?

Bonnie had been wrong about a few things since they’d gotten back. She still had her magic, her vampire nature hadn’t disappeared, and her connection to Damon hadn’t been a figment of her imagination. And now, apparently, Damon’s desire to be close to her hadn’t gone away like she had expected it to.

Just because Bonnie wanted desperately to give in and say yes didn’t mean that she wasn’t aware that this had gone straight past Bad Idea territory into what could only be described as the Don’t Do It Danger Zone. “Damon -”

“Please, Bon.” Damon hadn’t moved from the doorway but it felt like he was speaking directly against her ear and Bonnie shivered in place. She could barely remember a time when saying no to Damon had been something she was good at, but she knew that if she _did_ say no he wouldn’t pressure her.

A handful of minutes ago Bonnie hadn’t been sure that hugging Damon would be appropriate considering that things were technically back to ‘normal’ and now here he was, asking her to sleep beside him. The misery he was feeling was plain on his face even if he still had his mental walls up and Bonnie’s resolve crumbled at her feet.

Bonnie whooshed over to him and Damon reached out to squeeze the side of her waist, tilting his head down towards her; Bonnie didn’t really understand why, but she rested her temple against his all the same. Damon let her go and she walked into the bedroom to see that Enzo was already underneath the sheets. She would have said he was half asleep but his eyes opened as soon as she passed the threshold.

“Joining us, are you?”

It was hard to ignore just how pleased he sounded about it but Bonnie tried anyway, walking into the bathroom without saying anything in response. She could feel his eyes on her ass as he quietly laughed. Damon’s shirt really didn’t cover much but with the adrenaline of the day leaving her body Bonnie was finding it hard to care; it was even harder to deny that she liked the way that they were both looking at her.

Bonnie found another spare toothbrush and was halfway through brushing her teeth when she had a thought that made her pause. She raised her voice even though she didn’t have to, mouth full of minty foam. “Wait, is Lexi going to be coming back tonight?”

The idea of Lexi arriving back at the apartment to find Bonnie in bed with Damon _and_ Enzo made her feel woozy. Bonnie didn’t know Lexi well enough to be able to guess whether she would judge Bonnie or not and she honestly wasn’t in the mood to find out. If nothing else Lexi would tell Stefan, who would mention it to Caroline, and then Bonnie would be fielding questions from Caroline and Elena by the morning if they didn’t just barge right into the apartment themselves.

Damon’s voice drifted into the bathroom. “I texted her, she’s at the bar with the others. Judging by the amount of typos in this she’s _very_ drunk.” More tapping at his phone screen, followed by the huff of a laugh that always made Bonnie smile. “She’s going to crash at your dorm and she says it’s okay for us to crash here.” 

Bonnie rinsed her mouth out as she tried to decide if she was worried about Damon using the word ‘us’. Did that mean he’d told Lexi that he was with Bonnie and Enzo? Just because she was comfortable staying didn’t mean that Bonnie wanted everyone to know. For _Jeremy and Elena_ to know. 

Some of her worry must have leaked over their connection - or he knew what Bonnie would be concerned about even before she did - because Damon tapped away at his phone for another few moments before he said, “I told her we’re taking the couches and you’re getting the bed.”

“Oh, okay.” Bonnie’s shoulders lowered themselves from around her ears. She checked her reflection in the mirror while her racing heart slowed down, needing the space for a moment. Running across campus meant that her hair was slightly messier than usual and her makeup was a little smudged from her nosebleed earlier, but not enough that Bonnie felt like doing something about it. Damon wasn’t going to judge her and Enzo could just deal.

The shirt that Damon had given her had an open collar like the Henleys he wore all the time, but it stopped short of showing off an obscene amount of cleavage. If she turned to the side Bonnie could see her ass and she could admit that she looked… good. Bonnie didn’t know why that was important to her, but she did know that feeling the heat of Damon and Enzo’s eyes on her made her feel powerful. _Sexy_ , even.

“Come on, Bon, I’m tired!”

Bonnie snorted. She was tired too, and she couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever.

When she walked back into the bedroom it was obvious where Damon and Enzo intended she would sleep, because Damon was beneath the sheets on what should have been _her_ side of the bed and Enzo was on the opposite side, with a very intentional looking spot lying blank between them. The gap looked cozy at best; the bed really wasn’t big enough for three people no matter what Damon said. Bonnie pulled a face as she considered the logistics of getting in.

Enzo was watching her and Bonnie saw his expression close off as he sat up to swing his legs over the side of the bed, facing away from her and Damon. His voice sounded a little strange when he said, “I’ll take the couch… three’s company, and all of that.”

Except when he tried to stand, Enzo didn’t move. _Couldn’t_ move was more like it; whenever Enzo tried to stand it was like an invisible hand stopped him, pressing him back down into the sheets. He looked over his shoulder at Bonnie and she could see that he was more amused than annoyed. “Love?”

There was that warmth again. How had she never realized how much she enjoyed endearments and petnames? Maybe because Jeremy had never been big on them. She couldn’t take credit for the magic pinning Enzo in place, though, and Bonnie shook her head. “That’s not me, actually.”

Enzo’s eyes landed on Damon in shock. Bonnie felt the same way considering she didn’t know that Damon had been planning on doing a big reveal; a little warning over their connection might have been nice. She had assumed that Damon would never want to tell _anyone_ that he was more witch than he had ever wanted to be, but maybe Damon felt like telling Enzo wasn’t the same as telling everyone else, the same way that Bonnie had. 

For some reason, they had both decided that telling Enzo was safe. 

As bad of an idea as it was to sleep in the bed with them both Bonnie knew she was going to do it; she _wanted_ to, even if the smart option would be to do literally anything else. Bonnie knew there was a chance that asking Enzo to move so she could get onto the bed might give him the wrong idea and make him think she didn’t want him there. That left Bonnie with one option: she kneeled on the end of the bed and then crawled into the space they’d left for her in the middle.

Bonnie felt ridiculous doing it but the way that two sets of eyes instantly laser focused on her told Bonnie that the move was maybe falling into the ‘unintentionally sexy’ category. Damon lifted the sheets for her and she got beneath them, noticing too late that there were only two pillows. Bonnie pouted at Damon and he sighed before he relinquished a corner of his pillow to her; Enzo could have the other one.

Bonnie lied down on her back and looked over at Enzo to see that he was watching her and Damon with a strange expression. For some reason it put her on the defensive. “What?”

Damon’s little magic trick was apparently enough to convince Enzo to stay because he laughed lowly and lifted the sheets so he could get back beneath them, shifting around so that he was facing her. Enzo looked past Bonnie at Damon; the mattress dipped as Damon rolled onto his side and in the space of a minute Bonnie had been effectively hemmed in by them both, just like she had wanted to be on the car ride back to campus.

It felt _good_. Bonnie could examine why later.

Bonnie was closer to Damon than she was to Enzo so when Damon moved she tipped towards him slightly, her right side pressed against the warmth of him. Damon’s bare chest felt scorching even through the fabric of her shirt. Enzo’s voice was so soft it almost felt confessional. “Did you ever hate each other, really?”

The light in the room dimmed dramatically before she could open her mouth to respond and Bonnie had the brief and crazy thought that the eclipse from the Prison World had followed them home; her heart thumped before she noticed Damon’s hand in the air. He’d willed the light to turn off, bathing the room in moonlight instead. Bonnie let out a shaky breath.

Damon’s hand dropped to her hip and he nudged her slightly, more pushing her towards Enzo than anything else. _Roll over._

Bonnie was grateful for the darkness of the room then. Every time that they had woken up wrapped around each other so far, they’d done exactly that: _woken up_ that way. They’d never cuddled up together before they’d fallen asleep. When she hesitated, Damon moved his hand off of her hip and _you don’t have to_ floated across their connection.

No, she didn’t have to. Never once had Damon forced her into anything, and Bonnie knew if she said no - just like with sharing the bed - he would respect her decision. But as much as she knew she didn’t have to, she did _want_ to. If Damon didn’t think it was a weird thing to do, neither would she.

Bonnie shifted around so that she was facing Enzo and Damon immediately moved closer, until he was a long line of warmth and muscle against her back. Enzo watched as they got comfortable, his dark eyes appearing even darker. She thought that Damon would stop there and Bonnie sucked in a quick but damning breath when he wrapped an arm around her waist too, pulling her even tighter against him. 

“No.” Damon’s voice was a deep rumble against her back and Bonnie shivered, his hand flexing against her stomach with the movement. Bonnie thought she could be forgiven for forgetting what he was even responding to, but then it hit her: Damon was telling Enzo that he’d never hated her. 

Bonnie didn’t think she’d been this warm in a while and it had very little to do with the temperature of the room. Enzo smiled a small smile and shifted imperceptibly closer. “I’m beginning to see that.”

Considering the situation, Bonnie would have thought sleep would be impossible. Yet her connection to Damon was already taking on that soft, dull quality it had when he was sleeping and Bonnie felt her eyes drifting shut as she relaxed into the hold he had on her. Enzo moved and Bonnie slitted an eye open to look at him.

“He’s hugging you like you’re a teddy, love.”

God. But Damon was, wasn’t he? He was holding her close, his arm wrapped around her in the same way a child would take comfort from a stuffed animal. Bonnie was happy to let him and she giggled somewhat deliriously. Damon grumbled behind her and shifted to rub his face against her hair once before he settled again and Bonnie felt… she didn’t know. Cherished, maybe.

When Damon fell asleep Bonnie followed him under, Enzo’s eyes warm on her face.

\--

**damon -**

The Prison World had sucked for a variety of reasons. For one, there was the whole repeating day, time not behaving properly thing, which was disorienting as well as being a general pain in the ass. For two, there was the fact that he and Bonnie were trapped in there with a homicidal psychopath with boundary issues. Neither of those things really made for what Damon would call a _fun_ experience.

So Damon didn’t think it was fair that the real world, the place where everything had been actually working out for him pretty well prior to his quote-unquote death, was actually turning out to suck even more. He couldn’t sleep in his own bed because of a giant and very inconvenient anti-magic spell and the love of his life didn’t remember ever having enjoyed his company, let alone that they were meant to be together. 

It’s why Damon felt justified in needing a bit of comfort, right now.

Asking Bonnie to share the bed was risky. Dangerous. Without ever really saying it in so many words, they had both understood that things were different in the Prison World. They only had each for company, for comfort. Now that they were back in the real world - as different as it might feel - things should go back to normal, right? The fact that things weren’t exactly as they’d left them was besides the point.

What was normal, though?

Was he expected to mostly ignore Bonnie now? To not want to touch her? Damon didn’t think he would be able to manage that. Not even knowing that he was on the same astral plane as Elena had stopped Damon from wanting to reach out for Bonnie. From the way that he could tell that she had wanted to come to him after breaking the news that Ric couldn’t give Elena her memories back, Bonnie felt the same way.

Ergo: sharing a bed. As far as Damon was concerned it was the most logical thing to do. Touching Bonnie made him feel better, even if he didn’t know why, and past experience as well as access to Bonnie’s head told Damon that she found touching him just as comforting. The fact that Enzo was _also_ included was inconsequential. Or, maybe that wasn’t the best way of putting it. 

Enzo being there too added to the comfort factor. 

That’s what Damon would have said, at least, until he woke up the next morning to Bonnie shifting back against his morning wood with more purpose than he would have expected. If he had been standing the sheer wave of lust that crashed into him would have knocked Damon on his ass; he had to fight not to tighten his hold on her. That was harder - _god_ \- to do when Damon noticed that it was bare skin under his hand, not fabric. Sometime in the night he’d put his hand underneath Bonnie’s shirt and his fingertips were grazing the soft warmth of her chest. 

_Danger, danger, danger._

Damon’s eyes burst open and something that wasn’t quite panic flowed through him. His eyes met Enzo’s and Damon opened his mouth to say something - ‘it isn’t what it looks like’, maybe? - when Enzo shook his head. Enzo’s mouth moved but no sound came out and it took Damon a moment to realize he was saying _she’s dreaming_. 

And of course she was. Damon took note of their connection and realized that it was soft and muffled like it always was when Bonnie was asleep, even if he could feel the pounding of her heart directly beneath his hand. 

When Bonnie rocked back against him a second time, a sweet gasp falling from her mouth, Damon tensed up so much he almost pulled something. Every part of him - some parts more than others - wanted to grind forward against her. The last time they had done this there had been much more clothing involved and being able to feel her so close against him was making Damon’s dick leak in his briefs. Damon’s hand involuntarily twitched beneath her shirt and Bonnie made a different, more alert sounding noise before their connection abruptly solidified in his head.

_DANGER, DANGER, DANGER._

Bonnie froze against him and the smell of her arousal hit his nose; Damon’s mouth fucking watered. Unlike that morning in the Prison World, Bonnie didn’t immediately move away from him. If anything, she relaxed against him as she woke up by degrees and Damon had no idea what to do. He knew what he _wanted_ to do. Damon blinked at Enzo over Bonnie’s shoulder and got the impression that Enzo wanted to do the exact same thing. 

For a single, blinding moment, Damon couldn’t remember why he _shouldn’t_ be touching Bonnie exactly how he wanted before the world came crashing down around his ears. _Elena._ She might not remember loving him right now, and the chances of her remembering any time soon had been dashed against the metaphorical rocks, but Damon still had to try. He owed it to their relationship to at least do that much. 

So that meant letting go of Bonnie before his hand got any ideas. Damon moved his hand out from beneath Bonnie’s - _his_ \- shirt, perhaps a little slower than was strictly polite, dragging his fingertips down her skin a little. She shuddered against him and Damon’s hips shifted forward once, traitorous. Bonnie made a noise that could only be described as a moan and Damon squeezed his eyes shut as he dropped his forehead on her shoulder.

“Good dream?” Enzo was doing that thing with his voice that made it sound like liquid sex and Damon felt like his entire body ached. Bonnie reached out to shove at Enzo’s shoulder and he laughed, swaying with the movement.

“Fuck off!” Damon could hear the amusement in Bonnie’s voice. It was like she wasn’t the least bit bothered to have woken up from a sex dream to find herself between two horny vampires. 

For a lack of anything else to do that wouldn’t be crossing a line Damon let himself grin against the skin of Bonnie’s shoulder, exposed where the shirt he’d given her had slipped down during the night. He wanted to kiss it, or to bite down, and it was a struggle not to just give into the urge. Damon expected her to move away from him now that she was fully awake, to retreat like she always did, but she didn’t shift away from him at all.

Staying so still was starting to make Damon feel a little insane.

One of their phones buzzed on the nightstand and it felt like a reprieve; whatever moment that was going on between the three of them ended and Bonnie finally put some distance between them, though she only went as far as flopping on her back beside Damon. Damon rolled onto his back too, throwing his arms above his head so he wouldn’t be tempted to get a hand around his dick. 

Enzo picked up the offending phone - it was his, apparently - and read the text. Damon watched him grin, tapping out a response before he dropped it back down on the nightstand. “Stefan and Matt have Tripp. They want help interrogating him.”

It sort of went without saying that when Enzo said ‘interrogating’ he really meant ‘torturing’, and that was just fine with Damon. Being shot in the stomach had hurt the first time and knowing that it had almost killed him for good last night made Damon feel something akin to rage. Bonnie moved to sit against the headboard and Damon was briefly distracted by the smell of her; if things were different, Damon didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself from just burying his face in between her legs. 

When Enzo stood up from the bed Damon looked over at him to find that Enzo was already looking in his direction, a knowing smirk on his face. Then Damon noticed that Enzo looked hard enough to pound nails in the ridiculously tight briefs he was wearing, the thickness of his dick outlined obscenely. Damon couldn’t help but stare. Enzo was built solidly, body corded with muscle, and his thighs… Damon shook his head to clear it.

Damon didn’t have to wait long to find out if Bonnie had gotten an eyeful too: she clenched her thighs together as she covered her face with her hands. “Jesus, Enzo.”

Why had Damon thought that sharing a bed with them would be a good idea, again?

Enzo laughed, like he was delighted to be the center of attention. Then he whooshed from the room and came back barely a handful of seconds later fully dressed, running his hand through his hair to tame it slightly. His phone got put in his pocket - which couldn’t be comfortable, with how hard his dick obviously still was - and he patted himself down like he was making sure he had everything. Enzo looked between Bonnie and Damon and grinned, shark-like. “Now, don’t do anything fun without me.”

It was pretty obvious what he meant by _that_ and Damon groaned, pressing his hands against his eyes. He heard Enzo make to whoosh out of the apartment but Bonnie saying his name stopped him; Damon moved his hands to see that Enzo had paused in the doorway.

“Yes, love?”

Damon looked at Bonnie. She was wearing his shirt, her eyes were bright, and she smelled like sex, which just seemed rude considering that no one had actually fucked her. She studied Enzo for a moment and he allowed it, apparently happy to wait as long as she wanted him to.

“Make him pay.” Bonnie’s voice was like steel and her heartbeat was as steady as ever and Damon stared at her, a little in awe as molten warmth rolled through him to pool low in his belly. Bonnie would have killed Tripp last night, maybe, if Damon hadn’t stopped her for her own sake. Damon had thought it was a heat of the moment thing, that maybe Bonnie hadn’t been thinking or acting rationally. But Bonnie was still furious, that much was clear. Knowing it was because Tripp had tried to kill him and Enzo?

God, Damon wanted to -- do exactly what Enzo _was_ doing, which was kneeling over Bonnie on the bed to claim her mouth in a kiss that was open and filthy right from the word _go_. Enzo had one hand on her jaw and the other on the naked expanse of one of her thighs and Bonnie made a hungry noise into his mouth before Enzo pulled away; she arched upwards to follow him and Damon felt like he was going to melt straight through the bed watching them together, a useless puddle of sexual frustration.

Enzo stepped backwards off of the bed, radiating smugness, and his eyes caught Damon’s. Damon was willing to blame what he said next on not having access to his higher brain functions at the present moment. “What, I don’t get one?”

_DANGER! DANGER! DANGER!_

Bonnie made a gut-punched sort of noise and Damon could relate because he hadn’t been planning on saying that but Enzo was stalking closer, predatory, to pin Damon in place with a hand on his chest. Enzo’s gaze was challenging like he was just waiting for Damon to take it back and well, in for a penny, in for a pound. Damon kept his mouth shut.

A perfunctory peck on the lips was about all Damon was expecting and he found his eyes crossing as Enzo’s face drew closer to his own; it was just easier to close them. Then Enzo was licking along the seam of Damon’s mouth and he gasped, his lips parting, and any noise he might have made - in protest, in pleasure - was swallowed up by the kiss. The feeling of stubble against his face was strange only for as long as it took Damon to realize that it felt _good_.

When Enzo pulled away it was to bite playfully at Damon’s bottom lip and Damon found himself thrusting upwards against nothing, suddenly desperate for someone to touch him. Enzo laughed before he disappeared from the room without another word and the front door opened and closed shortly after. Damon blinked up at the ceiling for a moment before he looked over at Bonnie. She looked… well. Like she wanted to sit on Damon’s dick and go for a ride.

Damon needed to get the hell away from her before things got even more out of hand. 

“I’m gonna go and… shower.” Bonnie nodded at him dazedly before she got off of the bed and walked out into the living room. Damon watched her ass as she went. Standing up and walking around with a hard-on was never graceful but Damon did it anyway, moving into the bathroom and shutting the door behind himself. 

If he jerked off in the shower as frantically and quietly as he could, well, that was between him and his hand.

\--

When Damon emerged from the steam-filled bathroom the apartment was silent. Sure, he’d spent over half an hour in the shower, but he would have thought that Bonnie would have said something over their connection before she ran out on him. He whooshed out into the living room and saw that Bonnie’s stuff was gone and tried to swallow around his panic. _Bon?_

Her response was immediate, so Damon didn’t have time to work himself into a proper freak out. _Went back to my dorm to shower. Felt like we both needed some space._

And wasn’t that the understatement of the century? 

Damon hadn’t exactly thought that Enzo sleeping in the bed too would act as a deterrent to touching each other inappropriately, but the way that the morning had actually panned out had definitely been a surprise. Being kissed by Enzo so thoroughly after he’d just given Bonnie the same treatment was sort of like kissing Bonnie himself, Damon realized. Or, at least, it was probably as close as they’d get.

If Bonnie was at her dorm with Elena, there wasn’t really any point in Damon going there just yet. What else could he do in the meantime? It didn’t take long for Damon to decide, getting dressed and heading out to the hospital where they were treating Ric. Newly _human_ Ric.

It was easy to find his room and Ric actually smiled when he saw Damon, which was nice. The smile fell off of his face pretty quickly, once Damon started poking at the buttons of the heart rate monitor that Ric was hooked up to. It beeped at Damon angrily. 

“I don’t think you should be touching that -”

“It’s fine! That hot nurse lady can just save you again, right?”

Ric sighed at him. He was pale and the lines around his eyes told Damon that he was in pain despite whatever medication they were pumping into him, and Damon felt bad for him at the same time that he wanted to strangle Ric for ruining his chances with Elena. “Her name’s Jo, Damon.”

“Yes, Jo, you told me. A very sexy name for a woman, don’t you think?” Ric half-heartedly swiped at him and Damon laughed as he bounced away to poke at the machine some more. It was flashing now, which was fun. Ric was silent behind him for a while which really should have told Damon that he should have been paying attention.

“Damon… if I could take the compulsion back, you know that I would.”

There was a hideous chair poised next to the bed and Damon poured himself into it only to immediately wince. The chair was just as uncomfortable as it was ugly; it felt like he’d bruised his tailbone. “I know. It’s not that I think that I can’t win Elena back on my own, it’s just going to be ten times harder when she only remembers all of the awful things that I’ve done. Of which, if you recall, there are a _few._ ”

Ric grimaced before he tilted his head to the side, like he was conceding the point. And Damon really had been awful, hadn’t he? He held up a hand and started ticking off his fingers. 

“First, I turned Caroline into my own personal blood bank. I turned Matt’s sister into a vampire because I was bored, I threatened to kill Bon-Bon once or twice -”

With a snort Ric interrupted to say, “I seem to remember that it was more than once or twice.”

Damon paused. Had he really spent that much time threatening Bonnie, before? He hadn’t been lying when he told Enzo that he’d never hated Bonnie. She’d just always been fun to poke at, to rile up, to annoy. Damon was good at it. “It’s subjective, Ric. Sometimes I was being _funny._ ”

“You killed Stefan’s best friend, at his _birthday party._ ” Oh, fuck off. Damon hopped up out of the godawful seat and grabbed some weird magnifying glass thingy and held Ric’s head in place so that he could look into his eyes with it; Ric slapped him away.

Damon rocked back on his heels with his hands up in the air, claiming innocence. “That doesn’t count anymore and you know it: Bonnie brought Lexi back!”

That got him a pointedly raised eyebrow and Damon braced himself for the killing blow that he knew must be just around the corner. Sure enough: “You snapped Jeremy’s neck right in front of Elena when she told you that she’d never love you!”

Damon sucked on his teeth and looked away. “I’ll admit, that wasn’t one of my finest moments. Can we focus on all of the good and heroic things I’ve done that you erased from Elena’s memory instead?”

Ric laughed and Damon grinned at the sound, turning around to poke at the heart rate monitor again. He pressed something that made it scream, the noise piercing his ears, and Damon spun around to yank the clip thing off of Ric’s finger. The sound stopped just as someone ran into the room. Damon spun around to see… the female version of himself?

Or at least that’s what it felt like. The woman had long dark hair and eyes that were even paler than Damon’s own. She was striking, even with the frown she immediately pointed in his direction. “You must be Damon.”

Wait, this was Jo? Damon hadn’t gotten a proper look at her last night and now he turned to Ric, pressing a hand to his chest. “Ric, you never said anything!” He laughed as Ric blushed, taking another swipe at Damon only to get caught in the various IV lines he was attached to. Jo moved forward to get him sorted out and Damon moved out of the way to let her. She seemed like a very efficient woman. “You’re going to be in pretty high demand, Doc, if word of your little magic trick gets out.”

And she really would. Not everyone wanted to be a vampire - Elena included - and if Jo could stop people from dying when they crossed the border into Mystic Falls, reverting them back to their human states instead? Vampires would come flocking for miles.

Having freed Ric from his IV prison, Jo looked back at Damon and the frown reappeared on her face. “What I did for Ric last night was a matter of a treatable death wound, perfect timing, and fear of losing the most interesting guy I’ve ever met adrenaline. Strictly not repeatable, which is why you will tell _no one._ ”

There was no room for argument in Jo’s voice and Damon smiled, lazy. He looked past her at Ric. “She’s bossy. I like her.” Ric’s grin matched his own and Damon was genuinely happy for him; Ric had had some pretty shitty luck with women, and he deserved to find a good one.

Jo sat on the edge of Ric’s bed, handing him the clipboard she was holding. “Do you have a suit that fits?” Ric made an affirmative noise. “You’re coming with me to the hospital fundraiser tonight; I’m making the interns go, so I need a date. Start your paperwork.”

Jo left the room and Damon thought that one over. Considering Elena was one of Jo’s interns and would presumably be in attendance at the fundraiser, Damon would be going too. Which made him think… _Bon?_

_Yeah?_

_You still at the dorm?_

_No, I’m compelling the Dean of Admissions to let me back into Whitmore._

Damon coughed out a laugh and ignored the look Ric directed at him. If Bonnie wasn’t at the dorm that meant Damon had time to whoosh over there to try and win Elena back for the second time. The thought excited him about as much as it had last night, but maybe seeing her face to face really would be the thing that made all of the difference?

There was only one way to find out.

\--

One look at Elena’s expression when she opened the door to find Damon on the other side was all it took for Damon’s hopes to dwindle almost into nothingness. She didn’t look pleased to see him; if anything she looked scared, and not at all in a hurry to say anything to make this any easier for him.

Damon spread his hands and tried to smile winningly at her. “Okay, I’ll start. I know Alaric _Eternal Sunshine_ ’d me out of your brain, but please tell me that it’s coming back? Or at least part of it?”

Nothing from Elena for a moment, then the tiniest shake of her head. How could such a small movement make Damon feel like he was dying? Elena looked like she’d rather be anywhere else. “I’m not sure what to say…”

Damon figured he may as well go for broke. He stepped forward and took Elena’s hands in his own. “It’s easy! Just tell me that you’ve missed me as much as I’ve missed you.”

It felt like a victory, that Elena didn’t immediately pull away from him. She looked down at their hands and Damon felt himself smiling wider, hopeful. Elena looked back up at his face and her expression was so closed off that Damon’s smile began to slip. “I remember…” Hope, so much hope that it felt like it was choking him. “Pain. All I can remember is every awful thing you ever did to the people that I care about. I honestly don’t remember _anything_ good between us.”

Each word was like a wooden stake directly to his heart and Elena was still talking. “I thought that seeing you might change things, bring the memories back -”

Damon moved forward again and Elena stepped back, another stabbing pain in his heart. “Maybe you just need some more time -”

Elena was shaking her head before he’d even gotten the words out. “I know that I loved you. And I know that I apparently forgave you for all of the awful things that you did -” God, screw whatever Enzo was doing to Tripp: _this_ was torture. “- I just don’t remember it, Damon. I just don’t… feel it, anymore. I’m sorry.” 

The pain of hearing her - the girl he loved so much - saying those words made Damon stumble back a step and Elena moved forward not because she was concerned for him but because she wanted to close the door in his face, shutting him out both figuratively and literally. Damon stared at the door in front of him in shock.

Damon’s first thought was to go to Bonnie. Was that weird? Maybe. It was a lot to be putting on her all the time, though. Just because they were connected to each other didn’t mean that it came with an automatic subscription to each other’s drama. That being said…

_Bon, have you heard about the hospital fundraiser thing tonight yet?_

Damon walked out of Elena’s dorm and considered what he could spend the day doing. Drinking came to mind, but honestly he should probably lay off of alcohol for a while. It made him bitchy. The stupid magic zapper over Mystic Falls meant that he couldn’t go home, either, but maybe he could walk along the border and look for weak spots? 

_Elena mentioned it. Why?_

If Damon was planning to crash the fundraiser just so he could talk to Elena again - an endeavour that was feeling more and more hopeless with each passing moment - he would need a suit. Bonnie could be his plus one. _Find yourself a dress: we’re going._

Bewildered amusement pulsed over their connection. Damon wasn’t sure when Bonnie had figured out how to send emotions as well as her thoughts, but it could just be that Damon knew how Bonnie was likely to react to things now. She became easier for him to understand every day, which was something that Damon didn’t hate. 

Finding a suit was easy enough and Damon stashed it away in Lexi’s apartment before he headed for Mystic Falls. He kept a safe distance from the border and walked the length of it once, and then again. If Damon got bored and found a tree to nap against, no one but the squirrel that woke him up when it landed on his shoulder would ever know. 

It was late afternoon around him - _why_ hadn’t Bonnie tried to wake him up - and he rushed back to Whitmore to get ready. Damon checked his reflection in the mirror, happy to find that his hair looked artfully styled rather than horribly windswept and the suit he’d compelled off of the rack fit just as well as he could hope. Small victories. 

_D -_

_Yeah, yeah, I’m coming._

The fundraiser was being held at the bar that Liv worked at and when Damon walked in he could hear Bonnie’s heartbeat straight away; she was over at the bar with Enzo. The dress she was wearing was the color of wine - of blood, almost - and her shoulders and neck were completely exposed. Damon wondered if that was deliberate. The dress hugged her curves perfectly and he barely noticed when Jo and Ric both glared at him as he walked between them to get to Bonnie.

Like Bonnie could hear his heartbeat too, she looked at him when he was still a handful of steps away and smiled. Enzo followed her gaze and grinned at Damon too. Enzo had found a suit somewhere and he looked almost as good as Bonnie.

_Almost._

Damon reached out for Bonnie’s waist at the same time as she reached out for his and they slotted together, touching from shoulder to hip. In a moment of madness - that’s what Damon would blame it on if anyone asked, anyway - he kissed her on the cheek. She looked up at him curiously but didn’t shove him away so Damon decided against apologizing. Damon hadn’t even stopped to think of the possibility that she might feel awkward after the events of that morning so it was a relief that she was apparently okay with everything that had happened. Enzo’s voice broke Damon out of his thoughts.

“What, I don’t get one?”

Damon should have expected to have his own words from that morning thrown back at him. Enzo had an eyebrow raised, challenging, and well. Damon couldn’t have that. He leant over and kissed the cheek that Enzo tilted his way, Bonnie a line of warmth down his side. Her heartbeat sped up slightly and Damon squeezed her waist as he pulled away from Enzo, whose eyes had darkened a little. 

Or maybe that was just a trick of the dim lighting of the bar?

Damon dropped his hand from Bonnie’s waist though he didn’t actually move away from her at all. Her smile got replaced with a frown that she directed at Enzo and Damon nudged her with his hip. “What’s up?”

Bonnie looked up at Damon, worry lines between her brows. “Tripp… his guys kidnapped Caroline's mom.”

Jesus. It made sense that people crazy enough to hunt vampires would also be crazy enough to have a contingency plan if one of their own was captured. Damon looked around the room and saw that Stefan and Caroline weren’t there. “Caroline knows?”

“Yeah, they’re going to trade Tripp for her mom at the border.” Enzo laughed quietly underneath his breath. Bonnie looked at him in confusion but Damon had an idea of what Enzo found so amusing; he had to muffle his own laugh, which of course caught Bonnie’s attention. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing!” She glared at him. “I just don’t think Tripp’s going to enjoy that very much, this time around.” Enzo’s smile was huge where Bonnie couldn’t see it. She’d told Enzo to make Tripp pay and if Damon was right, he had. There was a good chance that crossing the border would kill Tripp.

Would Bonnie think that was cruel, or would she think it was justice served? _Elena_ would probably be horrified.

Damon shifted to face the entrance and Bonnie moved with him, so her back was to the bar; he and Enzo were effectively bookending her. Liv appeared in front of them with a tray of champagne and Damon grabbed a glass for Bonnie before he took one for himself. Enzo grabbed a glass and drained the entire thing, swapping it for a fresh one. Liv rolled her eyes at him before she looked between them, a smirk taking over her face.

“Well, aren’t you… _three_ cute.”

Before he had an opportunity to formulate a response to that Bonnie tensed beside him and Damon looked down at her. She was looking towards the door and Damon followed her gaze to Elena, who’d just walked in with… some guy? Damon’s heart sank down to his feet. “Who the hell is that?”

Liv turned to see what the fuss was about and made a face. Elena was holding the guy’s hand, smiling at him like she really liked him, and Damon felt like he was going to throw up. “That’s Liam Davis. He interns at the hospital with Elena… he’s some medical prodigy or whatever.”

Like she could feel their eyes on her Elena looked across the room at them. Her smile fell off of her face and she lifted a hand in an awkward wave before she let Liam pull her away. She kept casting confused looks in their direction and it took Damon a second to realize that it was probably because he was standing so close to Bonnie. Was he really that much of a dick to Bonnie before they’d died that seeing them be friendly was so shocking to everyone?

Damon turned his back to Elena only to have his champagne glass taken out of his hand. “Hey!”

Bonnie downed it in one and raised an eyebrow at him. “Well? Go and get your girl.”

Looking heavenward and sighing probably wasn’t the most enthusiastic response Damon could have given but he felt it was justified, considering that it would likely be the third opportunity in two days for Elena to basically say she hated him. It was like talking to Katherine - especially considering they shared a face - and Damon wasn’t sure his ego could take the damage. “Bon -”

“Damon.” Was it childish to pout at her? Damon did it anyway. Enzo laughed at him and moved closer against Bonnie, pressing her more firmly into Damon. It was a good thing that Liv had wandered off; she’d probably get a kick out of that. Damon still didn’t move and Bonnie sighed at him. “Elena’s never been good at saying no to a Salvatore in a suit.”

The urge to find out just how good _Bonnie_ was at saying no to a Salvatore in a suit entered Damon’s mind and god, she looked incredible in that dress. But he heard Elena laugh from somewhere behind them and he knew that Bonnie was right. If he gave up after two attempts, how could he even claim to love Elena? Maybe the third time would be the charm. 

When Damon turned around, Elena was kissing Liam. 

The thought of walking off of a cliff into a pit of piranhas was more appealing than interrupting them, especially when Elena saw him over Liam’s shoulder and grimaced. Bonnie’s hand on his back propelled him forward and Damon let the momentum carry him over to Elena; she was asking _her date_ to get her a drink. 

As soon as Liam walked away Damon put himself in front of her. Elena couldn’t even keep eye contact with him, looking at the other people milling around as she said, “Sorry, I -”

Liam was back. Fucking _Liam._ “Wine or beer?”

Elena spun in place and tried to say it didn’t matter, she didn’t mind, anything that would get Liam out of the way. Or did she really think that Damon would hurt Liam for interrupting? Damon could feel Bonnie and Enzo’s attention on him when he reached a hand out towards Liam, who was eyeing him dubiously. 

“Damon Salvatore, Elena’s ex. Nice to meet you…”

“Liam.” The handshake was firm, business-like. Damon sort of wanted to break his fingers and he actually had to make sure he was holding himself back when Liam’s eyes went suddenly wide.

“Wait, _Damon?_ ” It wasn’t a difficult name, was it? Some genius this guy was. Damon nodded but Liam was looking at Elena. “Damon, as in the ex that _died?_ ”

That explained the confusion. After the hell she’d put him through the last two days, Damon allowed himself a moment to enjoy Elena’s stammering as she tried to explain why exactly she’d lie in such a huge way. After a seriously awkward handful of seconds, Elena looked back at Damon, desperate to be saved.

“It was more of an _emotional_ death, you know? It was a messy break up. But we’re past that now, right, Elena?” Damon grinned magnanimously at them both and curved his hand around Elena’s exposed shoulder. “We’re in the ‘friends’ stage.” Liam looked like he wasn’t sure whether to believe the pile of bullshit that had just been dumped in his lap. Nevermind, Liam was smart after all.

Elena pasted on a fake looking smile and directed it full-force at Liam. “Yeah!”

Could Elena hear Bonnie and Enzo sniggering at the bar, or was that something that only Damon got to enjoy? Talk about a peanut gallery. Liam was puffed up like a prized rooster and Damon’s patience was wearing thinner by the second. He moved past Elena and sized Liam up. “The ex meets the new guy…” Damon clamped his hands on Liam’s shoulders and felt the satisfying cosmic _snap_ as their eyes connected. Compulsion was so fun. “Exactly how freaked out are you right now?”

Liam’s pupils shrunk and then grew. “I feel a little threatened, but I think I could take you.”

By the sound of it, Enzo choked on air. Poor Bonnie snorted champagne up her nose. Even Damon struggled not to crack a smile. God, this guy! He looked over his shoulder at Elena. “Confident! That’s _sexy_.”

“Damon!”

Bonnie was full on laughing now; Damon glanced over at her to see that she had her face pressed into Enzo’s neck. He was curved around her, his shoulders shaking with his own laughter. Damon sort of wished he was over at the bar with them, instead of trying to remind his girlfriend that she’d loved him once.

Liam turned his head towards Elena. “I’m sorry, what’s going on -” Damon directed Liam’s gaze back towards him with fingers at his jaw; it was annoyingly sharp. 

“Go to the bar.” Damon thought for a moment before he grinned. “Get her chardonnay.”

Like a dutiful puppy Liam turned around and headed to do as he was told and Damon spun in place to grin at Elena, who was frowning as Damon had predicted she would be. “Damon, I hate chardonnay.”

“I know!” Damon gave her his most dazzling smile and she pulled a face, like she found him annoying and painful. _Bonnie_ would have laughed. Bonnie was _still_ laughing!

Elena, however, couldn’t have looked less impressed if she tried. “What are you doing?”

Damon turned to the side and offered his arm to Elena. “I’ll explain on the dance floor. Shall we?”

More than half of Damon thought Elena would say no. That she’d just shake her head and wait for Liam to return with the drink that she hated enough to spit it out the first time she’d tried it. It was a pleasant surprise when Elena took his arm instead, her expression long suffering as Damon led her out into the throng of people drunkenly swaying to the shitty music.

Elena tolerated holding Damon’s hand and turning slowly in place for all of ten seconds before she looked at him and sighed again. “Why are you doing this?”

“What do you mean, why? I’m an incredible dancer, Elena. It would be a shame not to share that with the world!” It was the weakest joke he’d told in his entire life but Elena pursed her lips and looked away from him, trying not to show her amusement. Damon was happy to call it a win. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that you smiled.”

Damon spun Elena wide and pulled her close, closer than she’d been standing before. Her arms draped over his shoulders and her eyes fell to his mouth. 

_Smooth, D._

_Shh, I’m seducing!_

“Miss Mystic Falls… the first time we ever danced together. Stefan stood you up. Bloodlust issues, surprise surprise!”

Elena shook her head, but she looked amused at least. “You’re trying to stir up memories. That’s not a good idea.”

There was nothing to do but press on. “I stepped in, sexy as hell, and saved you from complete and utter humiliation. Of course, you were just worried about Stefan, but there was this moment… just one moment, where everyone else fell away and it was just the two of us.” They were sharing the same air, now. Elena swayed forward, her eyes locked with his, and Damon thought that she might be about to kiss him.

Then she pulled away.

“Damon, I’m here with someone else. You can’t just come in unannounced and ruin my night -”

“Ruin your night? What are you talking about, Elena? I _literally_ went through time and space to be with you.”

“I know, Damon,” and Elena pushed him away. The inches between them felt like miles. “Do you want me to feel guilty? Because I do. I feel horrible and I’m sorry, but I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t remember us!”

Something like anger flowed through Damon. “Well, I do! And no matter how bad things got or how much I missed you, I would have _never_ erased my memories of you! Even if I was drowning in agony, I would rather hold onto every shred of happiness we ever had than erase you from my mind.”

Without even really meaning to Damon had been moving closer to Elena and his hands were cupping her face, her big brown eyes locked with his. He could hear her heart pounding and Elena seemed pinned in place. Had he finally gotten through to her? 

All at once Elena pulled herself out of his grip. “I need some air.” She whooshed from the room, leaving Damon clutching at nothing in more ways than one. Was love supposed to be this hard? Screw his no drinking plan, Damon needed to be drunk right now.

When he turned to face the bar it was to see that Enzo had disappeared and Bonnie was on her own, undefended. She was perched on a stool with her back to Damon, trying to project disinterest towards the mountain of a guy standing in front of her. From what Damon could tell he was blond, more than a little drunk, and handsy; Damon could see his fingers trailing along Bonnie’s leg. Damon might know that Bonnie could handle herself, but it didn’t stop him from seeing red. Or green, maybe. _You good, Bon?_

_Come here._

Damon went. 

The guy probably would have gotten the message if Bonnie turned away from him to talk to Damon but she stayed put, so Damon did the next best thing and pressed himself as close to Bonnie’s back as he could. Their height difference was even more exaggerated now that she was sitting down and Damon gently put his head on top of hers and draped his arms over her shoulders, his wrists grazing her collarbones and his fingers dancing across her chest.

It was blatantly possessive of him and Damon felt the most in control he had all night. He made eye contact with the guy and smirked meanly. One, two, thre-

“Uh, I - oh, my friend’s over there. I’m just gonna -” and the guy made himself scarce. Bonnie laughed before she spun herself around on the barstool. Damon only moved backwards enough that she could part her knees to accommodate him; Bonnie wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug and Damon pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

He _really_ had to stop doing that. Maybe when Bonnie stopped looking so quietly pleased about it.

Damon pulled away to hop up onto the adjacent barstool and stole Bonnie’s drink - she’d switched to bourbon at some point - knocking it back while she looked at him with pitying eyes. She’d heard that smack down, then. As soon as a bartender came close enough Damon ordered them a round of shots and told the bartender to keep them coming. “Where’s Enzo?”

Bonnie must have heard the unspoken _and why wasn’t he looking after you_ because she rolled her eyes before she accepted the shot glass Damon offered her; she made a face and then threw it back, her nose scrunching adorably at the taste. Damon grinned at her. Did it mean anything, that Bonnie could make him feel better so quickly without even trying?

“Caroline called. She was pissed… turns out that Enzo had turned Tripp before she and Stefan got to him. When Tripp crossed the border his neck tore itself open and he bled out.”

Damon threw back his own shot. Bonnie’s thoughts were blocked to him and her expression was neutral; it was impossible to tell how she felt about the news. “Oh?”

Bonnie looked at him and Damon realized that the color of her dress made her eyes look even more green. When a slow smile unfolded on her face his body temperature ticked up by a few degrees. She shrugged, like she was some kind of vengeful goddess happy to have gotten her way. “He deserved it.”

Damon grinned at her as the bartender deposited another round of shots in front of them and they picked them up, raising them like they were about to toast. To Tripp’s demise, maybe?

Before Bonnie could bring hers to her lips it was plucked from her hand and Damon turned to the offender prepared to complain, only to see that it was Elena. How had he not heard her coming? Bonnie frowned at her. Elena was one of Bonnie’s best friends but it was like Bonnie was annoyed on Damon’s behalf and he had no idea what to do with that information.

Elena knocked back the shot and _thunked_ the glass back down onto the bar. “I want to remember.”

Damon turned on his barstool and leaned back against the bar. Was he really going to give Elena a _fourth_ opportunity to break his heart? When was enough enough? “You’re a day late and a dollar short, honey.” Bonnie snorted and Elena narrowed her eyes at her before she trained her gaze back on Damon.

“I mean, I want to _try._ Knowing that there’s this whole piece of my life missing, it’s driving me crazy. I have to at least try to get it back.”

It was a nice idea in theory, but Ric was human again. Damon couldn’t exactly ask him to remove Elena’s compulsion. “How do you suppose we do that?”

“Maybe we can try to unwind the memories backwards? Something might trigger something, and they could all come back. Right?” She actually sounded hopeful, which felt ironic. Damon didn’t say anything and Bonnie nudged him.

“What do you want me to do?”

Resolve overtook Elena’s expression, like she was bracing to walk into battle and not into memories of actually thinking he was a decent person. “Take me to the last place I told you I loved you.” Bonnie made a small noise beside him. When Damon looked at her she just shook her head minutely before she looked away.

At least it was a request that Damon could fulfill, mostly. He nodded and Elena smiled at him, turning to head for the door. When Damon didn’t immediately follow she looked over her shoulder at him but Damon glanced at Bonnie; her expression was even more blank than it had been before and Enzo wasn’t back yet - 

The front door opened and Enzo’s heartbeat filled Damon’s ears. Bonnie turned her head and saw Enzo coming and smiled, a small thing, before she looked at Damon. “Go on, I’m fine.”

Even over the din of the bar Damon could hear the lie in the words but Elena called his name, impatient, and he chose not to acknowledge it.

Damon reached out to squeeze Bonnie’s shoulder before he walked towards Elena, who looked more than a little put out; she was a woman rarely left waiting. Enzo didn’t really smile at Damon either as they passed each other, and Damon couldn’t help but feel like he’d done something wrong. He knew that this might be his last chance to get his girlfriend back, though, and Damon wasn’t going to waste it.

Damon followed Elena out into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm incapable of writing nice, short chapters. Oops? 
> 
> [Here](https://au.boohoo.com/off-the-shoulder-skater-dress/AZZ51307-104-351.html?istCompanyId=abef2874-4ba0-4a6c-b387-925625e06570&istFeedId=97a19e5c-f6c3-4195-bf4b-f3554c79e897&istItemId=itwiaqxaq&istBid=t&gclid=Cj0KCQjwsuP5BRCoARIsAPtX_wExKJ3UhsHyaypybvOKsX19fox9liUSBrzBmy_J6Ba85WsP2YdU1e0aAuQ_EALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds) is the dress that Bonnie wore to the fundraiser, if anyone is curious! 
> 
> As always, let me know your thoughts by either commenting or leaving kudos! I'd love to know what you thought of having the two POVs in the one chapter 👀
> 
> If you'd like to chat with me about the fic or just receive updates/excerpts, you can follow me on twitter [@bonbennetts](https://twitter.com/bonbennetts) and my tumblr is [@bonbennett](https://bonbennett.tumblr.com/)💓


	18. can you let your baby be my girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damon makes a last ditch effort at helping Elena restore her memories; Bonnie and Enzo get better acquainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from "Single" by The Neighbourhood.

**damon -**

Elena led him out to her car and they set off for Mystic Falls, or as near as they could get to it considering the current situation. The drive would maybe take half an hour, tops, and Damon should feel… excited. Ecstatic, some would argue. Yeah, his girlfriend wasn’t going to have her compulsion taken away any time soon - Damon would never ask Klaus for _that_ favour - but she wanted to try and remember their relationship. That was good news! 

Except something like dread was curdling in Damon’s stomach, and he couldn’t put his finger on why.

Bonnie’s thoughts might be behind a mental wall right now, but Damon wasn’t blind. Her expression when he left might have been mostly blank, neutral, but he knew her well enough by now to recognize that for some reason she was unhappy. And knowing that she was unhappy was making it seriously difficult for Damon to continue driving away from her. It sort of felt like the knowledge that Enzo was at the fundraiser with Bonnie was the only thing stopping Damon from turning the car around.

That, and the fact that Elena was sitting in the passenger seat beside him. She’d been staring out the windshield since they left the bar and if Damon wasn’t blind, he wasn’t deaf either. Her silence right now spoke volumes and Damon knew he was living on borrowed time. Elena might not remember loving him and so she didn’t really care what he got up to, probably, but Damon was expecting questions to be fired at him sooner rather than later.

When Elena had entered the fundraiser and seen how close he and Bonnie were standing she’d made a face, her eyebrows furrowing and her mouth pinching. It was like she’d been both confused _and_ annoyed. When Damon had made Elena wait because his instincts were telling him to check on Bonnie, not only had Elena noticed but she’d been pissed off about it. Had she ever been left waiting, before? Had _Damon_ ever left her waiting before? If he had, he couldn’t remember it.

They’d been driving for ten minutes or so when Damon felt Elena look at him. Was she expecting him to be talking non-stop right now, high on the possibility that taking her to the last place - thereabouts - that she’d told him that she loved him would result in her memories of their relationship flooding back? If she was, Damon couldn’t blame her, considering that every other time he’d put himself in front of her over the last few days he’d been almost vibrating with optimism. He just couldn’t really manage it now, after three failed attempts.

“So, um -” and Damon immediately knew where this was going: Uncomfortable Town. “You and Bonnie seem… friendly?”

Bonnie lying about being fine aside, Damon crossed his fingers that she wasn’t mad at him right now. Or at least that she was not-mad enough to answer him. _Bon, how much have you told Elena? About us?_ ‘About us’ made it seem illicit, but maybe it was. Damon didn’t even know anymore.

_Nothing, really. I avoided the subject._

Smart girl. Trapped in a car with his mostly-girlfriend, Damon didn’t have that luxury. Or maybe he did? He could be vague, at least. Damon shrugged and continued to look at the road ahead of them. “We were alone together for four months. It was either become friends or kill each other, so…”

While Elena digested that, Damon pressed his foot down on the gas. Was it wishful thinking, to hope that if they got to their destination quick enough, Elena would drop it? “I guess.” Oh, she sounded skeptical. Damon tightened his hands on the steering wheel. “But you’re like, _close._ ”

He and Elena had been dating for two years, sort of. More or less. There was the time that Elena had been sired to him, then the time that Elena had actually been Katherine, then the period of time where they were fighting or having sex or both. The point was, they’d been together for two years and Damon knew her better than he knew most everyone else in the world, save for maybe Stefan. It was _definitely_ wishful thinking to hope that Elena would drop the topic.

There was no missing what she meant when she said ‘close’, either. What she meant was _touchy._ Affectionate. Had he and Bonnie been particularly flirty, at the fundraiser? Elena hadn’t arrived yet when Damon kissed Bonnie - and Enzo - on the cheek, which was a fucking blessing. And she’d been outside taking in the air like a flustered debutante when Damon had put on his possessive show for the gropey blond douche who had been getting up in Bonnie’s space.

Or… had Jeremy told Elena how he’d found Damon and Bonnie last night? Bloodied and exhausted and wrapped around each other? He couldn’t have, because Damon knew that if Elena was aware of that they’d be having a very different conversation. And he might be trying to heal around a stake wound.

No, Elena was solely basing this on the fact that Bonnie had let Damon within a foot of her. It was like everyone thought that Damon was only one bad day away from ripping Bonnie’s head off at any given moment and he hated that. He _hated_ that. If he could go back in time and do things differently, treat Bonnie better, he would. In a heartbeat he would, and she’d still deserve better than anything he could give her.

“Damon?”

Oh, Elena actually expected him to respond to that? Damon had no idea what he could even say. Yeah, he and Bonnie were close and the idea that Elena might disapprove sort of made Damon want to bare his teeth. Being close to Bonnie - literally and figuratively - wasn’t something that he thought he’d ever be in the mood to apologize for and just because he didn’t understand it didn’t mean that he was going to stop, not even if Elena was going to be weird about it. It was a startling realization to come to, considering. It meant that Damon didn’t do much more than shrug again. “Like I said, we’re friends.”

There wasn’t really any room for argument in his tone and Damon knew that, had intended on it even. The air in the car curdled with Elena’s bad mood; she pointedly looked away from him to stare out of the window. It was justified, in a way. Damon had never shut her out in any capacity before and he’d definitely never given someone else’s feelings preference over hers before. But something was telling him to protect this thing he had with Bonnie, whatever it was, and Damon was determined to do that. Whether it _was_ just friendship or something more.

Damon could have clapped when he saw the _Welcome to Mystic Falls!_ sign ahead of them. He took his foot off of the gas and parked on the shoulder of the road, hopping out of the car. It felt false to go around and open Elena’s door for her - even though he’d done the same thing for Bonnie not twenty-four hours ago - and he was grateful when she saved him the trouble by getting out of the car at the same time as him.

The anti-magic bubble bullshit was really starting to grate on Damon’s nerves. Namely because it meant he couldn’t _actually_ take Elena to the last place that she’d told him she loved him. That had been _in_ Mystic Falls. Parking on the border was just going to have to do; Damon didn’t want to think about it as being the Universe’s way of saying that this wasn’t going to work because he already had enough doubts himself.

When he sat on the hood of the car Elena joined him and they looked out into the night for a few minutes, the engine ticking beneath them. Eventually Elena sighed hugely and hopped down, the heels of her shoes sinking into the grass. “This isn’t working… I’m not remembering anything.”

It was a struggle not to groan and drag his hands down his face. Damon hopped down beside her and spread his hands peaceably. “Okay, what _do_ you remember? How did Ric rewire you?”

Elena spun in place and she was frowning, like she didn’t even really want to be there. Like she was just doing this at all because not knowing was the worst thing in her mind, not that she might be missing out on loving Damon. “I remember that we had to stop the Travelers. You had a plan but you wouldn’t tell anyone what it was… The next thing I knew, you were dead.” Damon smiled but it felt more like a grimace, and Elena continued. “I heard that you drove your car into the Grill and it caused some big explosion that sent everyone to the Other Side.”

It felt crazy to Damon, that Elena had done that with him. That she’d loved him enough to drive into the Grill, knowing that it would kill them in pretty much the most gruesome way possible. The girl standing in front of him now didn’t look capable of loving someone that much and it was leaving Damon feeling cold. “I drove into the Grill, that much is true. The one part you’re missing is that you were in the car with me.”

Disbelief made Elena’s eyes comically wide. “What?”

“You jumped in the car beside me and you were all ‘we’re in this together!’, not taking no for an answer. I realized you were the perfect girl for me because you were just as crazy as I was.”

Would it help Elena to remember if the things that they had experienced together were more normal, less batshit insane? Maybe, considering Elena asked him to tell her something happy instead. Damon smirked. “There’s an ice machine in Denver that could tell some stories.”

Elena rolled her eyes at him. “Something _else?_ ”

Damon wracked his brain for something that might break through the stupid fucking wall blocking her from her memories of loving him. Of thinking he was anything better than Stefan’s evil brother. “The night of your graduation, you gave me one of your best speeches.” Elena raised an eyebrow at him. “You, in your very passionate way, told me you were in love with me and hell if you were gonna apologize for it.”

When Elena broke eye contact this time, she had the barest whisper of a smile on her face and Damon’s traitorous heart started to pound with hope. He didn’t trust it, though. The hope. It felt dangerous - stupid, even - to be putting his heart in her hands like this. Damon was giving her the opportunity, time and time again, to crush it. To crush _him._

But if he was getting through to her even a little, he was going to push on. “That’s not my favorite memory, though. There was this summer night we had together before you went off to college… You wanted to show me this meteor shower, so we drove out in the middle of nowhere to see it. As soon as the shooting stars started to fall? Rain. Lots of rain.”

Elena laughed and the kernel of hope grew bigger.

“You were so sure it would clear up that it just seemed easier to believe you. I took your hand...” Damon reached out for Elena’s hands and she met him halfway, her expression open and bright as she looked at him. He lost his trail of thought but it didn’t matter, because Elena leaned forward suddenly and kissed him.

The shock of it was so complete that Damon just stood there, mouth slack against hers for longer than he was proud of. Elena was warm along his front and Damon's brain finally kicked into gear and he put his arms around her, his mouth moving against hers… and Elena pulled away almost in the same moment. “Sorry, sorry. This isn’t working.”

Damon wanted to pull his hair out, and for his mouth to not taste like her lip gloss. “Maybe you just need to try a little harder -”

Elena had been walking away from him but now she spun around, defiant. “I _am_ trying! I get that we had an amazing life together, and that I loved that you were reckless… It probably made me feel very free. But now when I look into your eyes… I feel like I’m looking at a stranger.”

To carry on with his own metaphor, Elena had just squeezed the life out of his heart with those words. Damon turned his back on her and looked up at the stars, blinking the dampness away from his eyes. This entire thing was hopeless. So fucking hopeless that Damon didn’t know what to do. Elena gasped from behind him and Damon turned around in a slow arc only for his blood pressure to drop dramatically as soon as his eyes landed on her. 

At some point in the last minute, she’d walked over the border. Elena was coughing up water, the smell almost brackish, as the anti-magic barrier tried to revert her back to the state she’d been in when she died: drowned at the bottom of the river her parents had died in.

Damon rushed forward and groaned as he crossed the border; the feeling of it was searing against his skin despite his suit, like being bitten by fire ants all over. He grabbed Elena and yanked her backwards, stumbling back onto the side of the border that didn’t have a vendetta against them. She squirmed out of his arms as soon as she could and Damon let her, swallowing around the feeling of nausea at the back of his throat.

“What the hell are you doing, Elena? Ninety more seconds and you would have been dead!”

Elena coughed and water splashed at her feet. “I’m trying -” another cough, horribly wet sounding, “- to undo the compulsion!” 

Jesus christ. Damon wanted her to remember, but not like this. Not because she was being bullheaded and stubborn as opposed to _actually_ wanting to remember loving him. He stepped in front of her in case she got any ideas and tried to catch her eye; she was clutching at her throat like she could still feel water blocking her airway. “Hey! I want you to remember, but I’m not going to risk your life. It’s the last thing I’d ever do, even if you don’t remember that.”

Damon started to gently lead Elena back to the car. She was wide-eyed and covered in goosebumps, her dress clinging to her wetly. Damon hadn’t been expecting miracles but this couldn’t have really gone any worse. He knew that he had to make a decision, and it was probably going to be one he didn’t like. 

“Let’s get you back home.”

\--

There was a blanket in the backseat and Damon draped it over Elena. She was shivering like she was cold but it was probably just the shock of almost dying and she couldn’t look at him for longer than a few seconds. Damon didn’t mind because if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t really want to look at her right now either. His thoughts were racing in so many directions that he couldn’t concentrate on any of them; if it weren’t for his seatbelt, Damon thought he might just float right out of the car. He almost slumped in his seat when Bonnie’s voice manifested in his head, though. 

_Damon, what happened? Did you cross the border?_

It was incredible that Bonnie had been able to feel that. He’d barely been across the border for a handful of seconds but obviously the pain he’d felt in that time was enough to cause a ripple across their connection. Enough for Bonnie to worry about him. Damon’s heart did something funny in his chest that he was willing to put down to indigestion.

_I’m fine. Elena got bold though: she went across the border to try and remove the compulsion._

_Oh, fuck._

Yeah, that pretty much summed it up.

The one thought that shouted itself loudest in his head, the one that Damon kept coming back to against his will, was one that he didn’t even want to look at directly. That he felt disloyal for thinking for longer than a second. A thought that he’d never expected to have in a million years, and that was that kissing Elena had felt like nothing. At first he wondered if that was only because she hadn’t really given him the opportunity to sink into it, but that didn’t feel right.

No, the kiss had done about as much for Damon as kissing Stefan would have. 

Feeling Elena’s lips against his - or any touch she was willing to send his way - had always made Damon feel like he was on top of the world, before. Like he could do anything; like he was loved and desired and wanted. But feeling Elena’s mouth on his in what had been a last ditch attempt to jog her memory had just felt flat and hollow. It had been so entirely emotionless that Damon may as well have been kissing his own palm.

It was terrifying to contemplate what that might mean.

The other thought that he kept coming back to - that felt equally as terrifying - was that Elena was happy without him; that she was only trying to force this because she resented the block in her memory. Damon wouldn’t have necessarily said that he had been tying her down with his love, but now she was free to do what she’d always wanted. She was studying to become a doctor and she’d met someone new. Someone safe and dependable.

Liam might be short, and a bit of a douche, but Damon knew that Liam was probably better for Elena in the long run. Liam was human and because of that he was safe. Dependable. He would never put Elena at risk the same way that Damon might, however unintentionally.

The drive back to Whitmore felt like it lasted a grand total of five minutes compared to the drive to the border and in no time at all Damon found himself walking Elena into her dorm. He was so consumed with his own thoughts that he almost tripped over his own feet when Elena stopped in front of her door and said, “I remembered something.” The shock and hope must have been visible on his face because Elena rushed to clarify. “Only bits and pieces! But there were stars, and it started to rain…”

Damon’s heart fell. Did that even count as remembering, when it was one of the happy examples that he had told her about not an hour ago? It felt more and more like they were both trying to force something that wasn’t going to happen organically anymore and Damon interrupted her.

“When you first became a vampire, part of me was thrilled. Because, suddenly, there was a possibility that I could have you in my life forever.” That got Elena to drop eye contact pretty quickly and Damon could only assume it was because she could barely stomach the idea of a day spent with him, let alone an eternity. “But the other part of me was devastated because I realized that you’d lost the life you wanted for yourself.”

Turnabout was fair because Elena interrupted him this time, insistent. “It started to rain. And then what happened, Damon?”

He ignored her. “Since I’ve been gone, you’ve gotten part of that life back. You’re thriving, Elena. You’re happy. And maybe I could make you happy if we gave it another chance, but the truth is… you’re better off without me.”

Elena looked shocked and Damon felt like he had been hollowed out, a husk of the person he thought he was. The person who was one half of _Damon and Elena_. They’d been together for two years and Damon had spent almost every waking moment since he’d gotten out of the Prison World trying to remind Elena that she’d loved him once and now here he was, giving up. Damon hadn’t expected it to get to this either. 

Confusion was as obvious in Elena’s voice as it was in her expression. “What are you talking about?”

“I died, and you started over. And that’s a good thing... It means that you can live your life, that you can be happy.” Damon sucked in a breath that was admittedly a little shaky. “I love you, Elena. Enough to let you go.” Damon was relieved to find that saying the words - I love you - didn’t feel like a lie even if kissing Elena hadn’t felt the way he had expected it to. Even though his feelings towards her since he’d gotten out of the Prison World had felt strange and muted; distant, considering he was the only one feeling them. A lot of love came from reciprocity, he guessed.

Elena just blinked at him, seemingly speechless. Damon looked away from her. It sort of felt like he wasn’t occupying his own body right now. Everything felt fuzzy and far removed from him. They stood like that for a minute, then two, before Elena’s voice snapped him back into himself. “It started to rain. And then what?”

Her confusion had turned to defiance and lying had never felt easier. “It got cold and muddy. You were miserable, so we got in the car and drove home.” Elena frowned at him and Damon didn’t care if she believed him or not. Damon made himself turn his back on her and the emotional pain of it made him want to scream, but he did it. He made himself take one step away, and then one more, and then one more. 

Elena didn’t say his name or call him back to her - would he have gone, if she had? - and Damon found himself back outside in the warmth of the night, remembering what had actually happened when the rain had interrupted what should have been a perfect moment.

It had started to rain and Elena had laughed, delighted even though it meant that there was no chance of them seeing the meteor shower. Like she was just happy to be there with him. Her eyes had been bright and her smile had taken over her face and in that moment Damon didn’t think he’d ever loved her more. He had laughed with her for a moment before he told her that it was time to abandon ship and give up; his clothes had been clinging to him, clammy and uncomfortable. Elena had told him to wait, certain that the torrential downpour would stop solely because she wanted it to.

When Damon had kissed her, he’d felt it right down to his toes. 

Elena had pulled away from him, rain dripping down her face. He had been able to see the love, the _adoration,_ clear as day in her eyes. They’d just stared at each other with the rain so loud as to be deafening around them for who knows how long. Then Elena had asked Damon to promise her that this - their love - would be forever. Standing close to her, his lips buzzing from the kiss, Damon had thought that promising her an eternity together was the easiest thing he’d ever done.

Knowing that it had just ended - that it might be over for good - made Damon feel numb. He’d spent the last four years completely infatuated with Elena and now he just had to… stop. She didn’t love him anymore and it was looking like that wasn’t going to change any time soon. Love wasn’t something he could force no matter how much he might want to.

Damon felt too raw with emotion to go back to the fundraiser regardless of the fact that it had an open bar. Regardless of the fact that it had Bonnie, and Enzo. They would try to comfort him, distract him, but Damon knew that he’d be pretty fucking awful company right now. He’d essentially just broken up with the love of his life and Damon felt like that probably deserved its own moment. He could go back to Lexi’s apartment to mope, but it felt more appropriate to just… walk. To let himself feel the grief rioting through him.

So that’s what Damon did.

\--

**bonnie -**

Damon’s hand on her shoulder felt like a brand, a physical thing pressing her into the barstool. As much as him leaving with Elena was hurting Bonnie, feeling him touching her was never something that Bonnie was going to move away from. That being said, when Damon walked away from her to follow Elena outside, Bonnie turned her back on him and knocked back the shot that had magically appeared in front of her in the same breath. 

And she had to turn her back on Damon, because the alternative was just embarrassing. It was ridiculous and childish and _stupid,_ but there was a good chance that watching him leave right now would make Bonnie tear up. Things had been so simple two weeks ago and she wanted to shake herself for letting herself get so messed up. How did she lower her guard so much that Damon could sink his claws - or his teeth, as it were - into the soft parts of her? 

Bonnie was beyond denying what she felt for him. The only difference was that now, she just had to swallow around the size of the emotion; it was easier to do than letting herself say the words out loud would ever be.

When a hand landed on her back, large and warm, Bonnie didn’t even flinch. 

That was half because she had seen Enzo coming and half because she was almost as aware of him and his location at any given time as she was of Damon, at this point. She might worry about that more, but right now she felt so rung out that she couldn’t muster up the energy to wonder why the fuck that was. Saying that it was just because of her vampire senses didn’t feel right, considering that Bonnie wasn’t aware of Stefan or Caroline or Elena in the same way. Damon was a special case, and now apparently so was Enzo. As far as she was concerned - in the present moment - that’s all Bonnie needed to know about it.

Enzo’s hand glided the short distance from between her shoulder blades to the back of her neck and Bonnie tilted her head to the side to accommodate him, sighing when he squeezed. He let go when he sat on the barstool that Damon had been occupying only minutes ago and Bonnie turned towards him, both unsurprised and uncaring when Enzo’s hand landed on her exposed knee. 

With one look at whatever her face was doing Enzo gestured for more shots, which sounded like a great idea to Bonnie; she almost took hers out of the bartender’s hand, she drank it so quickly. 

Enzo laughed, the sound rich and rolling. “Careful, love.”

Bonnie shook her head as she licked the tequila from her lips. “I don’t think I can get drunk anymore. Or at least not for long, anyway.”

Enzo grinned as he watched her, his eyes inky dark, before he threw back his own shot. His mouth was a rosy pink against the glass and Bonnie found her eyes drawn to it, remembering the way he’d kissed her that morning. The wet press of his mouth against her own and his stubble against her face. 

Bonnie squirmed a little in her seat as the bartender set down another round. With how much tequila she’d already had she’d usually be hanging off of her seat by now, but Bonnie barely felt a buzz. She sipped at her shot - it somehow tasted worse, that way - because if she was going to let her mind wander, she wanted to have her faculties about her. Enzo could already read her thoughts right off of her face, it seemed like. 

For a lack of much else to do, Bonnie looked around at the party. Tyler was helping Liv serve the guests and Bonnie giggled at the image of him dressed as a waiter when usually it would be him being tended to hand and foot at one of these things. He didn’t seem bothered, though: the moments he wasn’t pouring champagne he spent staring after Liv wherever she went, hearts in his eyes. Alaric and Jo were at the other end of the bar, heads bent close as they grinned at each other. Maybe Elena had been onto something about the chemistry between those two and it made Bonnie smile to see that _someone_ was enjoying themselves.

As she had been watching everyone else Enzo had been watching her, and when he spoke she almost spat her tequila out. “Loving him would be more bearable if he were aware of it, wouldn’t it?”

Somehow Bonnie knew that Enzo wasn’t talking about Tyler or Alaric and she felt her heart skip a beat as she looked frantically around the room, certain that Caroline had arrived just in time to hear him say it. The coast was clear and Bonnie had never been happier that Alaric wasn’t a vampire with super hearing anymore. Safe or not, Bonnie’s heart was still pounding hard enough that it felt like it was going to burst right out of her chest. 

What had she even done to make him think that? If her feelings were obvious to Enzo, were they equally as obvious to everyone else who knew to look?

Enzo was looking at her with something like pity - or sympathy - on his face and Bonnie felt faint. She must have looked like she was on the verge of sliding off of her seat because Enzo squeezed her knee and Bonnie couldn’t meet his eyes, afraid of what he’d see in them. Of what he’d already seen. She shook her head. “I don’t… I don’t.”

Even as she said it, Bonnie wasn’t sure if it was the truth; her heart probably sounded just as confused as she felt. She knew she had feelings for Damon. Denying that much _would_ be a straight up lie. But _loving_ him? After what amounted to a week spent together? That would be insane… or would it? Love didn’t happen overnight, Bonnie knew that much. It was something that you had to build up with the other person; it had to be fostered and fed in order to grow. 

Like he could sense her panic Enzo squeezed her knee again, firmer this time, and Bonnie focused on him and the soft expression he was wearing. Then she wound back the conversation a step or two and heard the way Enzo had phrased it, like _he_ had experience with loving Damon. Bonnie couldn’t just let that go unchecked, not after watching Enzo kiss Damon that morning. “Do _you?”_

Enzo grinned and it looked rueful. His hand loosened on her leg and Bonnie covered it with one of her own on autopilot, keeping it in place. It felt grounding to be touching him even in such a small way when she felt so emotionally vulnerable; Bonnie felt needy and she wasn’t ready to give up the comfort afforded by the touch just yet. Enzo looked surprised before he directed a small smile her way, pressing his hand more firmly against her leg like he wanted to reassure her that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Bonnie had expected that Enzo would go the simple route and either confirm or deny that he had feelings for Damon, but instead he looked thoughtful for a minute before he asked her a question instead. “Did he ever tell you about our time together with the Augustine Society?”

The topic change threw her before she remembered that it was relevant, considering that Damon and Enzo had been imprisoned on the Whitmore campus. That somewhere nearby - maybe nearer than she even knew - there were cells underground, designed to keep vampires contained so they could be experimented on. _Tortured._

The thought of someone doing that to Damon and Enzo made Bonnie see red and before she knew what was happening the lights in the bar dimmed, just for a second. It was like her emotions were manifesting in a physical way and some of the other guests gasped in surprise; one girl shrieked. Enzo’s grip on her knee tightened - he knew it was her doing it without her needing to say anything, apparently - and Bonnie took in a steadying breath. Everyone who had done that to Damon and Enzo had already died a painful death. It would have to be enough.

The lights returned to their normal brightness and after a brief silence the people around them went back to talking, drinking and dancing like nothing had ever happened. Bonnie still took a moment to take in a steadying breath or five before she answered Enzo. “I never heard it from him directly… I’ve heard some things from Elena, though.” 

Enzo _hmm’d_ but didn’t say anything else straight away, his eyes unfocused like he’d become unintentionally lost in remembering that time in his life. 

Bonnie shifted until she was at the edge of her seat so she could press her knees between his own; the need to comfort him was overwhelming. Being close to Damon when he was hurting always seemed to help so Bonnie figured she’d just apply the same logic here. Enzo could always push her away if he needed to. When his expression transformed into something she could only describe as stormy Bonnie leaned even closer to him. “Enzo -”

“They held me captive for decades. Years of being cut into little pieces again and again, fed barely enough blood to heal in between. It was so unbearable that I wished for death a million times.” Enzo took a deep breath and Bonnie couldn’t look away from him. “Then Damon was brought in.” Enzo actually smiled. “We only saw each other a handful of times… I wonder if they kept us separate for a reason? But there was a gap in the wall between our cells, just big enough for us to hold hands. We spent every waking moment talking to one another.”

Bonnie had to swipe at her eyes with her free hand, then. It was funny that they had both had similar experiences with Damon, though what Bonnie had gone through in the Prison World felt insignificant by comparison. But Enzo had spent time essentially in isolation with Damon and had developed feelings for him, and so had Bonnie. It was like being alone with Damon stripped away the sharp edges of his personality until you were just left with the soft and forgiving parts. The parts that were easy to lo - to _like_.

At least when things had gotten hard in the Prison World Bonnie had actually been able to hug Damon, and to sleep beside him. Enzo had only been able to hold Damon’s hand and just that little touch had been enough to comfort him; knowing Damon, it had probably been enough to comfort them both. Bonnie tried to press herself closer to Enzo and he squeezed her knees between his own, his eyes intent on her face.

What could she possibly say in response? What Enzo - and Damon - had gone through had obviously left a mark on them both even if they didn’t bear any scars. Bonnie didn’t know if there were any words that would be appropriate to convey the pain she felt for them. In the end, she didn’t have to: Enzo shook his head like he was shaking free the memories. His cheeks colored slightly as he looked around them and Bonnie wondered if he’d gotten so lost in the past that he’d forgotten that they weren’t alone.

The warm brown of his eyes met hers once more. “All I’m saying… however you feel about him? I understand. Damon’s easier to love than anyone would ever think at first glance.” Enzo flipped his hand beneath her own so that their fingers were intertwined. They weren’t necessarily touching any _more,_ only differently, but Bonnie felt her face flooding with warmth regardless. 

It was weirdly nice, to have her feelings for Damon - whatever they might be - acknowledged and validated at the same time, by someone who not only wouldn’t judge her but was also in the same boat, more or less. She and Enzo were united in their unrequited pining.

Arriving back from the Prison World, Bonnie and Damon had assumed - somewhat foolishly, she realized now - that everything would be just the way that they left it. So when Stefan had told them that Elena had erased her memories of loving Damon, Bonnie had been genuinely devastated for him. Elena was Damon’s whole world and Bonnie had wanted to see him happy, so encouraging him to pursue her and make things right had been easy. Now that Elena had actually said that she wanted to try, that she wanted to remember, Bonnie knew that she’d only been playing the part of the helpful sidekick because she didn’t think Damon would be successful. 

The idea that Damon might show up with Elena happily on his arm, her memories of loving him restored, made Bonnie feel more than a little sick. There was no way that wouldn’t mean the end of whatever it was that Bonnie and Damon shared; their connection, the touching, the feeding from each other. If he got back together with Elena, it would have to stop.

But what if that _didn’t_ happen? What if Elena’s memories didn’t come back after all?

Bonnie wasn’t so naive that she thought that Elena rejecting him meant that Damon would come running to her instead, and if Bonnie was being honest with herself that’s not even what she wanted. No matter how she felt about Damon, Bonnie was never going to settle for being the second choice. She respected herself too much for that. 

_Bon, how much have you told Elena? About us?_

It was hard not to visibly flinch at Damon’s voice popping into her head when she’d been so consumed by her own thoughts. Did that mean that Elena had questions? Bonnie wasn’t surprised if she did, considering Elena’s expression at finding Damon standing so close to Bonnie and her annoyance when Damon hadn’t fallen over himself to follow her out of the bar. Bonnie could only be honest in her response. _Nothing, really. I avoided the subject._

Enzo squeezing her hand in his own brought Bonnie back to the room around her, and the vampire she was currently pressed up against despite still technically being on her own barstool. She raised an eyebrow at him in a silent question and he gave her a slow smirk that warmed her right through. “You look far too good in that dress to be frowning as much as you are, love.”

“Yeah, well.” Bonnie shrugged even as she felt herself flushing at the compliment because if anything Enzo would understand her melancholy mood. Enzo nodded like he was acknowledging that she had a reason to be upset before his expression shifted; his mouth quirked at the corner and Bonnie thought that he looked as mischievous as he did determined.

“Lexi’s at the hospital with Caroline and Stefan, making sure the Sheriff doesn’t have a concussion…”

The way he trailed off told Bonnie that he was intending that to have some sort of double meaning, but she couldn’t figure out what it was. Maybe she _was_ drunk? “Okay?”

For some reason that made Enzo laugh, a loud and amused sounding thing, like he had expected her to get it and was feeling put out that he’d have to be more direct. “So Lexi’s apartment is free, Bonnie.”

It took her a moment, and then Bonnie was blushing as she dropped Enzo’s gaze. She might have spared a thought for the kiss they’d shared that morning earlier but now Bonnie was reliving the entire thing in technicolor: Enzo licking possessively into her mouth, one hand big on her jaw and the other high on her bare thigh. The way she hadn’t been able to contain her hungry noise when he’d pulled away from her. The way that Damon had watched the whole thing, close enough to radiate warmth against her side. 

The way that Bonnie had been so turned on afterwards that she’d left Damon and his hard dick at the apartment, dashing for her dorm room and barely checking that it was empty before she was touching herself, biting her lip to contain the noises she was desperate to let out.

Enzo stood and moved impossibly closer to her, their clasped hands held between their bodies like he didn’t want to let go of her. He pressed his mouth to her ear and Bonnie shivered as she leaned further into him, uncaring of how they looked when most of her blood supply was migrating to throb between her legs. “I bet I know something that could make you smile…”

_Jesus._

Bonnie knew her mouth was hanging open but it was weirdly hard to close it, at least until she saw Liv watching them. Heat flooded to her face again but Liv was laughing as she completely unsubtly gave Bonnie a wink and a thumbs up; Enzo noticed and laughed and Bonnie already knew she was going to say yes. Why not, right? Enzo was gorgeous and he wanted her - was shamelessly open about the fact, even - and Bonnie would have wanted to even if she _wasn’t_ feeling depressed about Damon leaving her for the love of his life. 

When Bonnie turned her head Enzo didn’t move away and their lips brushed. Enzo went one step further and kissed her, just a quick close-mouthed thing. Even that small touch was electric; Bonnie already felt like she was buzzing inside of her skin. Getting herself off was great, but having someone else do it for her? Bonnie had missed that. He pulled away to look her in the eyes, his gaze searching. “Yes?”

For all of his cockiness and swagger, Enzo still sounded unsure. It was that, in the end, that really sealed the deal for Bonnie. She nodded. “Yes.”

\--

Considering what was on offer, Bonnie was a little surprised when Enzo just offered her his arm and walked them sedately through the throng of people in the bar and into the warm air outside.

It was fair, Bonnie reasoned, considering it would have been pretty obvious what they were planning on getting up to to everyone who was aware of them if they’d just whooshed out of the party like they were running from a fire. Liv knew, of course, but Bonnie didn’t mind that. The judgemental stare that surely would have been directed her way if Alaric and Jo had noticed she could definitely do without, though. Alaric liked her fine, but Jeremy was practically his kid.

The lukewarm air of the night felt oppressive on Bonnie’s overheated skin. Enzo hadn’t said anything outright - it was all just heavy handed implication at this point - but Bonnie already felt like the majority of her brain cells were focused on the pulses of arousal flowing through her. If Enzo’s smirk was any indication, he knew that. Would it be immature of her, to make him walk a little faster right now?

Enzo pulled her tighter against his side. “Anticipation is half the fun, sweetheart.” Bonnie shivered and then laughed when Enzo started to walk faster despite what he’d just said. Anticipation was great, sure, but knowing that he was just as eager as she was was even better.

In what felt like no time at all in the grand scheme of things they were standing in front of the door to Lexi’s apartment. What would they do if she’d been back during the day and the door was locked? Break in just so they could get down and dirty? With how ready for it Bonnie felt right now, maybe. She didn’t have to find out because Enzo turned the handle and the door swung inwards and he grinned at her before he turned to the side to gesture her inside. Bonnie laughed and walked past him.

Bonnie felt him follow her inside closely and she expected to feel his hands on her straight away - she would have welcomed it - but he walked around her to look through the kitchen. 

“This feels like a champagne occasion…” He opened and closed a few cupboards before he made a frustrated sound. “Surely Lexi has champagne _somewhere?_ ”

If Lexi drank as much as the Salvatores she probably had some squirreled away and Bonnie opened her mouth to say so as she put her purse on the little end table near the front door, only to feel a bright flash of pain that didn’t belong to her prickling all over her body. She cried out and Enzo was in front of her almost in the same second, concern written across his face. Bonnie reached out to clutch at his arms. 

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Enzo started looking her over and the feeling vanished just as quickly as it had come on. Bonnie swayed into him and Enzo changed tactics to wrap his arms around her instead. He rubbed her back and made soft noises against her hair and Bonnie wasn’t sure if he was trying to comfort her or himself; his heart was hammering beneath her ear.

What the fuck had just happened?

Her connection to Damon felt just as strong as ever, but something told her that the spidering pain she’d felt burning through her veins was a result of Damon crossing the border. Maybe the last place that Elena had told Damon that she loved him was in Mystic Falls, and the border of the town was as close as he could get them? He must have only done it briefly and everything must be relatively okay if he hadn’t tried to say anything to her, but Bonnie had to make sure.

_Damon, what happened? Did you cross the border?_

A moment that felt far too long, before Damon’s voice filtered into her head. Bonnie leaned more heavily against Enzo in relief. _I’m fine. Elena got bold though: she went across the border to try and remove the compulsion._

That made Bonnie tense all over again. _Oh, fuck._

Enzo moved away slightly and Bonnie felt his lips soft against her forehead as he placed a gentle kiss there. The warmth that had left her began to trickle back and didn’t go anywhere when Enzo pulled away, his brows furrowed and his eyes intent on her face. “Want to tell me what that was?”

Bonnie could lie… or she could just tell him. “You know when we shared a dream, and I told you that the situation with Damon was complicated?” Enzo nodded, looking even more confused than he had a moment ago. “That’s because we’re connected.”

“Connected.” Bonnie nodded. Would this ruin everything? If Enzo decided that he didn’t want her after all, Bonnie wasn’t sure how she would feel. He wasn’t pulling away from her though. If anything, he looked intrigued. “Connected how?” 

The heels that she was wearing were taller than she was used to - maybe a part of her had wanted to look nice tonight - and Bonnie shifted in place while she considered how to word it. “When Damon fed from me the first time -” Enzo’s gaze darkened and his eyes flicked down to her exposed neck, almost like he couldn’t help it. Bonnie found herself tilting her head to the side and his eyes got impossibly darker; the grip she hadn’t realized he had on her waist tightened. “- I could feel his emotions.”

That got Enzo’s eyes meeting her own again pretty quickly. His surprised expression reaffirmed what Damon had already told her: that definitely _wasn’t_ normal. What made her different? Was it because she was a witch, or was it something else entirely? She thought Enzo might interrupt looking for some sort of clarification but he didn’t, so she just kept talking. “We didn’t realize at first, but he could hear my thoughts, too.”

Enzo laughed, sudden. “So you could feel his emotions and he could hear your thoughts? There’s something poetic about that.”

Bonnie grinned back at him because he wasn’t wrong; if nothing else, the Universe had a sense of humor. They were standing close enough to each other - touching more than they weren’t - that it felt like they were sharing secrets with each other, which felt appropriate. “Except when he stopped feeding from me, I couldn’t feel his emotions anymore. When Damon realized he could still hear my thoughts, he wanted to test it by feeding me his blood, too.”

It was weird, but talking about feeding Damon and being fed by him in return was making her blood sing in her veins. Enzo made a noise and Bonnie frowned at him, worried, until one of his hands came up so he could brush his fingers beneath one of her eyes. Then Bonnie felt the tickling sensation she’d come to associate with the spidering veins that appeared when she was hungry. She flushed and tried to discreetly poke at her gums with her tongue, looking for her fangs. Bonnie wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved to find that they were still up and away. Enzo was watching her expectantly. “When Damon put his wrist in front of me… I had fangs. I fed from him and suddenly I could feel his emotions again. It hasn’t really gone away since.”

Bonnie decided to leave out the part where she’d freaked out in a pretty major way about the whole thing and passed out for a few minutes; it didn’t feel relevant now that she was almost completely okay being whatever percentage of vampire that she was. Enzo was looking at her like he was in awe - of her or the situation, Bonnie didn’t know - and she was feeling warmer by the second. 

“And Damon has magic?”

That made her snort in amusement, remembering when Damon had been so scandalized that he could light a candle that he’d blown the power supply to the entire Boarding House without even trying. “A lot of it, yeah. He doesn’t even need to use a spell.”

Enzo laughed and his eyes looked like they were sparkling. Maybe Bonnie really _was_ drunk after all. “I bet he loves that.” Then his expression became more serious. “So what happened, before? You sounded like you were in pain.”

Oh, that. “We can block each other, mentally, so it doesn’t get overwhelming.” Or revealing, but Bonnie didn’t say that. She had a feeling that Enzo would connect the dots for himself. “But when we’re hurting, it’s too hard to maintain the concentration. Damon crossed the border into Mystic Falls and I felt… an echo of the pain he was feeling, I guess.” 

“Huh.” 

Bonnie would have expected Enzo to say something else - to have more questions, even - but it seemed like he was just going to take everything she was telling him at face value. It made sense, really, considering that Enzo would be able to hear a lie in her heartbeat no matter how staggered it already was. Knowing that he might trust her even that little bit felt good, too. The hand he still had on her waist tightened and Bonnie swayed into him.

Enzo’s gaze on her was just as dark as it had been earlier and Bonnie… well, she wanted. Talking about her connection to Damon for a little while certainly hadn’t changed that.

With the extra inches afforded to her by her heels it was easy as anything to sway even further into Enzo to press her mouth against his. Enzo rewarded her initiative by immediately opening his mouth against hers, the kiss deep and heavy straight away. Enzo’s hands drifted from her waist to her hips to her ass and Bonnie arched against him, making a happy noise into his mouth that quickly turned into a startled one when he lifted her clear off of the ground.

Bonnie didn’t have time to wrap her legs around him before she was being deposited on the bed that they had all slept in last night; the burst of air as she landed brought with it the smell of their mixed arousal from that morning, making her mouth water and the throbbing intensify between her legs. Enzo was standing at the foot of the bed and Bonnie propped herself up on her elbows to watch as he shrugged out of his suit jacket. When he started to work on the buttons of his shirt Bonnie got up on her knees to help him, even though her eyes kept getting distracted by the bulge in his dress slacks.

After seeing him naked when they shared a dream and the little show he’d put on that morning, Bonnie knew exactly what Enzo was packing and she felt greedy with the need to see, with the need to touch. She abandoned her quest to get Enzo’s shirt off - there were only a couple of buttons to go - so that she could work on his pants instead. Enzo’s hips jerked forward and Bonnie’s heart was pounding for an entirely different reason now. 

As soon as she had Enzo’s pants sliding down his hips Bonnie’s breath hitched in anticipation and... _there it was._

Enzo was wearing the same black briefs as he had been that morning and he looked just as hard as he had then too, the fabric clinging to the head of his dick where it was leaking. A feeling of confidence - boldness, even - overtook her and Bonnie leaned down until she could get her mouth on him, angling her head so she could watch Enzo’s reaction as she pressed a kiss to the cotton-covered length of his dick.

“ _Fuck_ , Bonnie,” Enzo punctuated it with a roll of his hips against her mouth. When the smell of precome hit her nose she followed it, sucking happily against the head of Enzo’s dick through the fabric before he pushed her away with a pained noise. Bonnie didn’t get an opportunity to feel put out about it because Enzo cupped her jaw and pressed his thumb against her mouth; she let the digit part her lips and sucked on it, watching Enzo’s awestruck expression all the while. “You look _hungry_ , sweetheart.”

And she was. Damon had assumed she was a prude and he’d been wrong. Sure, she’d only ever had sex with Jeremy before her little grinding session in Damon’s lap, but the sex she _had_ experienced? She’d really enjoyed it. Like, _could spend all day doing it_ levels of enjoyment. It was fairly hard - but not impossible - to do fully dressed, though, so Bonnie moved to stand beside Enzo. She toed her heels off as Enzo sat on the bed in front of her, reclining back on his elbows like he had been that time that they had shared a dream. It was just as hot an image now as it was then, doubly so because of the way his dick was straining against the briefs he still hadn’t taken off. 

Bonnie considered how to go about getting undressed. What would be the most satisfying for them both? She hadn’t exactly dressed for the fundraiser expecting that she’d be getting fucked at the end of the night, but the underwear she was wearing was… _significantly_ sexier than the plain black pair she’d been wearing last night. There was also the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

In the end, Bonnie decided on what could only be described as the ‘slow reveal’. She turned her back on Enzo. “Can you unzip me?”

“Gladly, sweetheart,” and Enzo shifted until he was pressed along her back. Bonnie gasped at the feeling of his hard dick pressing against her and then again when Enzo leaned forward to drag his mouth along her shoulder and neck as he got his hands on her zipper, dragging it slowly down. Bonnie let gravity take the dress down her body and smirked at the wall in front of her when Enzo’s breath audibly caught when he realized that she wasn’t wearing a bra. She couldn’t wait until he saw - 

“Jesus _christ,_ Bonnie Bennett.”

\- the underwear. Although calling it _underwear_ didn’t seem entirely appropriate. What she’d been wearing last night had been underwear. The completely see-through lace covering her ass right now definitely fell into the _panties_ category.

When Enzo’s hands glided down her back they felt almost reverential and Bonnie shivered, her nipples pebbling in the cool air of the room as she felt herself getting even wetter than she already was; Enzo had barely touched her, had barely kissed her, but Bonnie had always been a little easy for it when she was in the mood. Somewhat unnecessarily, Bonnie asked, “Do you like it?”

“Do I -” Enzo laughed, rich and dark and sexy as hell. “I think asking you to turn around might kill me, but I’m going to do it anyway.”

Considering it would likely mean feeling his hands on her, Bonnie was more than happy to comply. She spun a slow circle and didn’t feel the slightest bit offended when Enzo’s eyes didn’t meet hers; they were busy staring at her exposed breasts before they moved slowly down her body to the front of her panties. The front panel was the same sheer lace as the back, only it was adorned with little black roses. Enzo’s hands landed on her waist and Bonnie watched his lap hungrily as his dick visibly twitched, smearing more precome along the fabric. 

Bonnie might not know where this was heading, but she knew where she wanted to _start._

Enzo had plans of his own, though, because his grip on her tightened as he picked her up for the second time that night to throw her bodily onto the bed. Bonnie’s resultant laugh was swallowed by his mouth as he covered her body with his own and kissed her; the hair on his chest rubbed against her nipples in a way that had her moaning and arching against him. Enzo pulled away and started trailing kisses wetly down her neck and Bonnie panted up at the ceiling, her eyelids fluttering when he sucked at her jumping pulse hard enough to leave a mark.

It occurred to her that she was about to have sex with a vampire. If Enzo wanted to - if Bonnie _asked him to_ \- he could sink his fangs into her skin wherever he liked. If she thought about that any harder her panties would be soaked through before Enzo even had the opportunity to take them off. Like she had said that out loud Enzo groaned against her neck, his hips rolling down against her own. “God, the smell of you, love.”

Heat rushed to Bonnie’s face. Of course he’d be able to smell her arousal; she didn’t know how she could have forgotten that, considering that she could smell his. It was hard to feel embarrassed about how much this was doing it for her when Enzo obviously felt the same way: his hips hadn’t stopped hitching against hers, like he couldn’t help it. 

Then Enzo started to shift down Bonnie’s body and the heat in her face redirected itself elsewhere. He cupped the fullness of her right breast in one hand and made eye contact with her as he pressed a kiss against her hard nipple and Bonnie’s eyes started to drift shut, which is right when Enzo chose to _suck._ Bonnie shouted as her back bowed, like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to push into or away from the pressure.

Enzo spoke against her skin as Bonnie panted. “Keep your eyes on me.” It felt like an order and _Bonnie_ felt like she was going to explode. She nodded even as she fought to stop gasping as Enzo pressed a gentle kiss against her tender nipple before he moved to give the other the same treatment. Bonnie moaned but kept her eyes on him and when he pulled away this time he gave her a slow grin. “Good girl.”

_Fuck._

It would have been impossible to contain the shiver that went through her or the way she couldn’t help clenching her thighs together at the words and Enzo only smiled bigger before he kissed his way between her breasts and down the expanse of her stomach, stopping at the waistband of her panties. When he audibly breathed in Bonnie whimpered. 

“Where’s your phone, sweetheart?”

Wait, what? 

Bonnie shot up onto her elbows and looked down at Enzo, who was resting his head on her stomach looking mightily pleased with himself. The cat who’d caught the canary. He wasn’t really suggesting _that_ was he? “Enzo, you can’t take photos -”

But Enzo was shaking his head before she’d even finished getting the words out. “I don’t need photos: I’ve got a photographic memory.” That made Bonnie feel dizzy with _something_ , to know that Enzo would be able to remember her like this whenever he chose. He smirked at her like he knew what she was thinking about before he pressed another kiss to her stomach. “Also, I don’t like sharing. I just think you might need it.”

“Why?” She was even more confused now - and even more turned on about the sharing comment - but Enzo only smirked wider at her.  
  
“Don’t you trust me?”

Bonnie hesitated. If he didn’t want to take photos of her and didn’t like sharing either way, what harm could it really do? And she did trust Enzo, for some reason. Bonnie sighed. “It’s in my purse near the front door -”

And Enzo disappeared, returning moments later with her phone. He put it on the pillow next to her and Bonnie frowned at him, though that only lasted as long as it took for him to arrange himself in the position he’d been in before. Only this time his hands were warm on her inner thighs, his thumbs practically beneath the elastic of her panties. Bonnie had to fight not to squirm.

Enzo had told her to keep her eyes on him and she did, blinking dazedly when he lifted one hand and rested it on the waistband of her panties. She thought he might just rip them off of her entirely and honestly Bonnie wouldn’t have minded, so she thought she could be forgiven for the needy whine she let out when instead he dragged his fingers down the front of the lace to skate over the wet fabric, rubbing across her clit as he went. Bonnie felt like she was going to vibrate straight off of the bed. “Fuck, Enzo, please -”

“Can you spread your legs a bit more for me, sweetheart?” 

Enzo was looking at her like he’d just asked her about the weather and Bonnie felt like she was heating up inside. God, she didn’t know if she was going to survive this. But she did as she was told, moving around until her legs were as spread as they could comfortably be without her bending her knees. Enzo made an approving noise and Bonnie almost closed her eyes in embarrassment when she got even wetter in response, before she remembered that she wasn’t allowed to.

Enzo kissed the inside of her right thigh and Bonnie shuddered in place. He kissed her left thigh, slightly higher up, and Bonnie approved of where this was going. She’d always had to ask Jeremy to eat her out and most of the time she’d been too embarrassed - too ashamed - to do it, meaning she went without. She was just sinking into the sensations when Enzo spoke against her right thigh, his mouth almost at the elastic of her panties now. 

“Why don’t you tell me about the dream you were having this morning.”

Bonnie’s thoughts were overtaken by what she could only describe as the sound of fuzzy static.

It was a wonder that she’d been able to think of anything else all day, honestly. She should have known where her consciousness would take her with Damon pressed so tightly against her and Enzo not even an arm’s length away all night. Especially after she’d felt their eyes on her, heated and hungry. Enzo rubbed her through her panties again and Bonnie bucked beneath him, her eyes almost rolling back in her head. The touch was good but she wanted to _feel it_ , wanted the panties out of the way completely. If she asked, would he take them off? Bonnie flushed. No, she’d wait.

It should feel dirty - too dirty - to tell Enzo what she’d been dreaming about, but Bonnie was too turned on to care. “You were both there.” May as well get that out of the way before anything else. Enzo chuckled and kissed her left thigh, over the elastic of the panties this time. Could Bonnie just magic them off? Probably. Enzo made a noise like he wanted her to continue. “Damon was kissing me and you were -” Bonnie bit her lip, squirming in place. Enzo only looked at her patiently, his eyes dark pools. “- you were fingering me.”

The smell of precome filled the air again and Bonnie squirmed harder, like that would encourage Enzo to do _something._ He tilted his head to the side like he was thinking before he crawled over her again, blanketing her body with his own like he had before. It felt incredible to have him pressed against her so tightly and Bonnie moaned, Enzo grinning at her. “Then I’ll have to multitask, won’t I?”

Enzo’s mouth met hers and Bonnie kissed him like she was starving for it because she felt like she _was._ Then she felt Enzo’s fingers pushing her panties to the side and she couldn’t spread her legs fast enough, whimpering in relief when he immediately slid two fingers inside of her. Enzo sucked on her tongue and curled his fingers at the same time, hitting her G spot like it was his job. Bonnie saw fucking _stars_.

 _There_ was that feeling of fullness she’d missed so much. He kept fucking her with his fingers, the noise of it loud and almost sloppy in the room - she’d feel embarrassed about that later, she was sure - and when his thumb pressed against her clit Bonnie almost launched off of the bed she jackknifed so hard, Enzo continuing to kiss her even as her mouth went slack as her orgasm rolled through her.

Jeremy had never gotten her off so quickly before. Bonnie could feel Enzo’s grin against her face and she laughed, vaguely aware of the way her hips were still shifting down against the fingers he hadn’t taken out of her. Enzo kissed her once more before his mouth found her neck again; he sucked another mark. Had the others already healed? Bonnie wasn’t exactly concentrating on making them disappear right now. His voice a vibration against her skin, Enzo asked, “What else?”

If Enzo wanted to act out her sex dream, Bonnie wasn’t sure how she felt about telling him the next part. To all of her friends who’d had sex with vampires before it was probably commonplace but Bonnie had only ever let Damon bite her, and that hadn’t even necessarily been in a sexual context. Like he could sense her hesitation, Enzo stopped kissing her neck to look at her as he gently slid his fingers from her at the same time. 

“You don’t have to, love. I’m sure we’ll enjoy ourselves regardless.”

The way he was still straining against his briefs told Bonnie that he hadn’t come yet and she really wanted to get him there. And just like hearing the uncertainty in his voice at the fundraiser had convinced her to say yes to him, hearing the reassurance that he’d respect it if she said no made her want to tell him, so she did: “Damon bit me.”

Enzo blinked at her for a moment before he grinned. He leant forward and nipped her on the neck, his teeth blunt and human. “Like this?” Bonnie gasped and laughed as she shook her head. Already she knew that being honest with Enzo had been the right decision; she was safe with him. Enzo gently clamped his teeth around one of her nipples for one second, two, before he let go. “Like that?” Bonnie shook her head as she grinned, watching as Enzo moved back down between her legs. 

With the way her panties were pulled to the side he’d be able to see all of her and Bonnie didn’t know whether she wanted to close her legs or spread them. Enzo saved her from deciding by getting his shoulders beneath her thighs and dropping his fangs. Bonnie’s heart stuttered but what she was feeling wasn’t anything close to fear: here was that anticipation that Enzo kept mentioning.

Holding her right thigh in his hand, Enzo turned his head to graze his fangs along the thin skin there. “Like this, love?”

There was no going back, now. Bonnie nodded. Enzo didn’t do anything right away, just watched her with his fangs pressed against her skin, right up high on the sensitive part of her inner thigh. Was he waiting for her to change her mind? Bonnie really wasn’t planning on doing that. At this point it was more likely that she’d beg him to get on with it. When she didn’t say anything to stop him, Enzo turned his head until he was facing her thigh properly and bit down. 

It only occurred to Bonnie that it might hurt when it _didn’t._ Instead, it felt fucking incredible. It felt ten times better when Enzo slid two fingers inside of her again as he drank shallowly from her, fucking her with them slow and deep. Bonnie threw her head back and moaned, uncaring of what she looked like as she ground down against his fingers and into the pressure of his fangs. Or, she didn’t care what she looked like until suddenly she could _see herself._

Except that wasn’t quite true. _She_ couldn’t see herself. It was more like she was seeing herself through Enzo’s eyes when he pulled away from her thigh. Bonnie could see the bite mark, a perfect impression of his fangs that was sluggishly oozing blood. She could also see her own wet folds and the way he was still fucking his fingers into her, the digits glistening. Bonnie’s moan at the feeling of it turned into a shocked gasp and she saw that, too, the way her chest was heaving.

Why did this keep happening to her? Why couldn’t she just have a normal blood sharing experience like everyone else? Enzo was acting like everything was completely normal right now and Bonnie was too turned on - was that narcissistic, that the sight of herself _didn’t_ turn her off? - to really panic about what was happening; it felt easier to just go with the flow of it, when it felt as good as it did.

It helped when suddenly she was back inside of herself again, feeling it instead of seeing it as Enzo pulled away just far enough that he could get her panties down her legs. Bonnie made herself look at him as he did it and she almost shouted when he leaned forward, obviously intending to lick across the bite mark he’d left behind to heal it. 

“No!” Enzo froze and looked up at her, eyes wide like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Bonnie could just put this in the ‘feel embarrassed about it later’ column, because right now she knew what she wanted and she was going to get it. “No, leave it.”

Bonnie wanted to be able to see the bite mark in the morning. She had a pretty good feeling that Enzo would want to do this again, but just in case… Bonnie wanted something to remember it by. Something she could press her fingers to. If anything, Enzo’s gaze on her got even hotter and he kissed her thigh instead, nosing his way upwards to _finally_ eat her out, if Bonnie had anything to say about it. 

Then her phone rang.

Enzo laughed and Bonnie flinched, looking at her phone like it was some alien object she didn’t know how to operate. And maybe she didn’t, considering that Bonnie didn’t feel especially connected to her hands at the present moment. Damon’s name was flashing across the screen and she didn’t know if she felt mortified or more turned on. When Enzo spoke she could feel the warmth of his breath against her clit, which landed her squarely in the _turned on_ category. “You should answer that.”

Wait, had he known that Damon would call? _How_ could he possibly know that? It was weird enough that Damon had chosen to call her at all, that he wasn’t trying to talk to her over their connection. Or was he calling for Enzo’s benefit, because he was assuming Bonnie was still with him?

The phone was still ringing and Bonnie looked at Enzo, sure her disbelief must be plain on her face. Enzo was about to start eating her out any second and he wanted her to _take a call?_ When she didn’t move straight away Enzo raised an eyebrow and pressed a pointed kiss against her knee, miles away from where his mouth _should_ be. Bonnie felt like he was trying to say that he wouldn’t put his mouth where she wanted until she did what _he_ wanted. 

Well, fine. If Damon couldn’t look them in the eye come the morning, that was Enzo’s fault. Bonnie pressed the answer button and tried to steady her breathing. “Damon? I thought you were with Elena?”

Enzo curled the fingers she’d almost forgotten were inside of her and Bonnie barely avoided biting through her lip as she looked down at him. What was he playing at? Then she registered Damon’s voice in her ear. “Why can I hear your heart pounding right now, Bonnie? Are you okay?”

Oh, she was _okay_ alright. 

Enzo was dragging his mouth wetly up her thigh and Bonnie parted her legs for him, trying to quietly encourage him to get to it and gather enough brain cells together to respond to Damon at the same time. How could he hear her heartbeat right now? She couldn’t hear his, so he couldn’t be nearby. 

“Yeah, I’m fi -” Bonnie should have known that Enzo would choose that precise moment to spread his fingers inside of her and lick between them. He made a hungry noise against her and Bonnie was seriously about to bite her own lip clean off to contain the whimper that wanted to come out of her mouth. “Fine! I’m fine.”

Damon was silent on the other end of the line and Bonnie was pretty sure she’d stopped breathing. Enzo switched back to fucking her with his fingers, unerringly hitting that perfect spot inside of her, and Bonnie really needed to hang the fuck up. There was no other sound in the room beside the wet noise of Enzo hurtling her towards her second orgasm of the night and Bonnie _knew_ that Damon would be able to hear it. 

So why hadn’t she ended the call yet? Why hadn’t _Damon?_

This was too much. Whatever line they’d drawn in the sand, this was miles past it. No part of what was happening right now was something that friends did. Bonnie was just pulling the phone away from her ear to stab at the End Call button when Enzo curled his fingers just so, sucking on her clit while he did it. It felt so good that all of her attention quickly diverted to keeping her grip on the phone and making sure her knees weren’t clenching so hard around Enzo’s head that she snapped his neck. Bonnie didn’t even think to try to stop herself from moaning.

When the noise made Damon groan in her ear, Bonnie and Enzo echoed him practically in tandem with one another. Feeling the vibrations against her made Bonnie moan even louder. Was she seriously getting head while also sort of having phone sex, right now? She’d broken up with Jeremy _yesterday._ Hearing Damon’s voice in her ear almost made Bonnie moan louder than hearing how affected he was had. “Enzo?”

Why was it even hotter, that Damon automatically knew who she was with? Enzo’s groan hadn’t exactly come with an accent. Enzo pulled away from the very thorough job he was doing only far enough to answer with, “Yes, Damon?”

Silence from Damon. Bonnie and Enzo were both holding their breath now, on the razor’s edge of wondering where this was going to go. Bonnie was about to check and see if the call had dropped out when Damon spoke. “Eat our girl right.”

Fucking _hell._ Bonnie made a strangled noise, feeling something like shock mixed with blind lust flood through her. That Damon knew what Enzo was doing and he was encouraging it was hot enough, but hearing him refer to her as being his _and_ Enzo’s? Bonnie looked at Enzo and saw that he looked just as dazed as she felt. He caught her gaze and smirked, a self-satisfied thing that made Bonnie’s blood burn even hotter.

“Oh, I plan to.”

Enzo dove in anew and Bonnie barely registered the dial tone that indicated that Damon had hung up because Enzo was a man possessed, fucking her with his fingers and eating her out so perfectly that she was shifting away from his mouth almost as much as she was thrusting against it. Bonnie came with a shout barely two minutes later and tolerated Enzo laving against the wetness of her until she felt too sensitive, shoving him away. 

With a laugh he flopped on his back beside her. Bonnie stared dazedly up at the ceiling, and came to the realization that she needed Enzo to feel as insane as she felt right now. It took a minute - or five - but as soon as she’d regained the feeling in her legs she sat up and slung a leg over his hips to sit directly on top of his dick, still trapped in his briefs. Enzo moaned, his hands landing on her hips, and Bonnie leaned over to kiss him. She could taste herself on his tongue and it made her want to grind down against the throbbing warmth of his dick, so she did. Bonnie kept that up until Enzo was more panting into her mouth than he was kissing her back, his hips bucking beneath her own. 

That was more like it.

Bonnie pulled away from his mouth and started to kiss her way down his body, hiding a smile when Enzo’s thighs parted automatically to accommodate her. Her fangs dropped of their own volition but Bonnie was willing to roll with it; feeling Enzo’s fangs in her had felt amazing and maybe it would feel the same, for him? She grazed them along his thigh, right where he’d bitten her. Enzo bucked beneath her again, leaning up on his elbows to watch her properly. She grinned at him. “Can I?”

Enzo looked like he was having an out of body experience when he shot an incredulous smile in her direction. “Fuck, yes.” Bonnie didn’t need to be told twice, eager even as part of her worried that feeding from Enzo would result in some weird magical consequence like it had earlier. They could cross that bridge if they came to it.

She sank her fangs into the meat of Enzo’s thigh and moaned in tandem with him when his blood hit her mouth, rich tasting and so, so good. It tasted slightly different to Damon’s but it was no less delicious. Bonnie’s eyes slid shut and she fell into the sensations of feeding from him for a moment that stretched on and on like taffy before she made herself pull away. Her eyes immediately caught on the slowly bleeding holes her fangs had left behind and when Enzo made a startled noise Bonnie looked up at him, her heart pounding. 

Though she already knew the answer, Bonnie asked the question anyway. “Can you see yourself?”

When Enzo nodded, relief flooded through her. He didn’t exactly look panicked when he said, “It was more of a flash. Did that happen to you, when I bit you?” Bonnie nodded back at him and Enzo’s expression shifted to something more wondering, more awestruck; his eyes were wide and unfocused and his plush mouth was hanging open. Bonnie wanted to kiss him, so she leaned back over him and did just that.

It was a slower kiss than the ones they had shared before and Enzo’s big hands fell to her waist so that he could pull her in even closer against him and Bonnie sighed into it, even as her thoughts were racing. What did it all mean? 

If he was experiencing it too maybe it wasn’t some weird fucking fluke. For all Bonnie knew, it had some deeper meaning that none of them - Bonnie, Enzo _or_ Damon - understood yet. Did this mean that she and Enzo were connected too, now? If they were, it didn’t exactly feel the way her connection to Damon did; there was no exchange of thoughts or emotions, and Bonnie couldn’t really feel Enzo in her head. Maybe they hadn’t drunk enough?

Eventually she pulled away from Enzo’s mouth and resumed her position between his legs. His dick, still just as hard and straining in his underwear, told Bonnie that she had more important things to worry about right now. The development of a potential third connection could wait for later. His mouth kiss-swollen, Enzo watched her. Bonnie noted the way his hands were clenching sporadically in the sheets now that he didn’t have her to hold onto and felt a pulse of warmth - and wetness - for him. Bonnie reached for the waistband of his briefs and Enzo lifted his hips to help her pull them down the muscled expanse of his thighs.

Every suspicion Bonnie might have had was immediately and satisfactorily confirmed: Enzo’s dick was fucking glorious. His foreskin was completely pulled back, exposing the flushed head that was almost wet with the amount of precome that Enzo had been leaking. He was thick all over, longer than Jeremy, and Bonnie couldn’t wait to feel that inside of her. But for now… 

“My turn.” Bonnie smirked at Enzo and he blinked at her dumbly. That particular _bittersalt_ taste hit Bonnie’s tongue as she took the head of Enzo’s dick into her mouth, wrapping a hand around the base to keep him steady and she took him in deeper, swallowing around her mouthful. Enzo swore colorfully and it was obvious he was holding himself tense to stop himself from thrusting up into her mouth and yeah, Bonnie was really going to enjoy this.

She closed her eyes and got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... yeah! 
> 
> I'm sorry that it took me so long to get this chapter out, but I had a bit of writing break and then once I got started I wanted to make sure it Felt Right before posting! And don't worry, we'll find out how Damon feels about all of this in the next update 👀
> 
> As always I would love to hear your thoughts in a comment, and kudos are always appreciated!
> 
> If you'd like to chat with me about the fic or just receive updates/excerpts, you can follow me on twitter [@bonbennetts](https://twitter.com/bonbennetts) and my tumblr is [@bonbennett](https://bonbennett.tumblr.com/)💓


	19. I wanna feel you (I want it all)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lines in the sand keep shifting, and Damon and Bonnie keep leaping over them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from 'Desire - Slowed' by Hucci which I'd, uh, recommend listening to for like, the majority of this chapter.

**damon -**

When Damon walked away from Elena’s dorm he chose a direction and stuck to it, walking until even _his_ feet started to hurt. As much as he knew that he couldn’t literally walk away from his heartache and his problems, Damon was determined to try. Like if he just went far enough, everything would be as it should be when he came back. Set to rights, like none of this fucked up shit had ever happened. As far as coping mechanisms went, it was one of his healthier choices in recent memory.

Damon wanted to laugh, almost. He’d made sure he looked good tonight and even that hadn’t helped in the end: Elena didn’t love him. Wasn’t going to love him ever again, probably. Something told him - it sounded suspiciously like a certain Bennett witch he knew - that he should feel distraught about that, probably.

And he did, in a way. Feel distraught. But only distantly; it was something he sort of had to keep reminding himself that he should feel, instead of something that he couldn’t ignore. The main thing he felt was _numb._ Like his limbs were too heavy for his body, dragging along behind him without any cooperation from his brain. He had given up the farce of breathing for the most part a handful of miles back and his thoughts were formless and slippery. 

Pretending to be human felt like way too much effort.

Now seemed like a rude time to realize that he’d changed a lot as a person, considering that Damon already felt like he was doing enough introspection to last him at least the next decade. But he _had_ changed, whether he wanted to admit it out loud or not. The fact was, if Elena had done this to him even a year ago, Damon would probably be pulling his old tricks. Picking an isolated road to park himself in the middle of, waiting for the first unsuspecting and well-meaning driver to stop and check if he was alright. Ripping their throat out just to feel something that wasn’t a deep and pervasive sense of self-loathing, of loneliness. 

Was it progress, that the thought of doing that now hadn’t even occurred to him? Killing people for fun just didn’t hold the same appeal to him anymore. He’d been mellowing out over the last few years without even noticing and god, now he was old and _boring._ Stefan would probably laugh himself sick to know and Damon laughed brokenly to himself in his absence, thankful that there _wasn’t_ anyone to see him having a minor mental breakdown on the isolated road he’d found to wander down the side of.

It was scary, to not know what he was supposed to do now. Damon was realizing that he’d literally devoted the last handful of years of his existence to Elena and her needs. Her wants. It wasn’t something he regretted doing - loving Elena wasn’t a mistake, not even her erasing him from her memory could convince Damon of that - but Damon also felt like he hadn’t given enough thought to _himself._ His happiness had been so intrinsically linked to Elena’s. 

Did he even have hobbies? Were hobbies something that Damon should _want_ to have? Surely it wasn’t healthy to love someone so much that you didn’t exist separately to them… but it was the only way of loving that Damon was familiar with, the only way he knew how to do it. It didn’t matter that it only opened him up to more heartbreak - every rejection from Stefan stun harsher for it - because Damon couldn’t help but love with all of himself. 

Elena had tried to accept all of the love that Damon offered her, but she had never been able to manage it. Or to stomach it, when his love manifested as him killing someone - or multiple someones - for her. Maybe it was really a blessing that she couldn’t remember the life they had together, and that those memories were likely to never come back on their own. Elena was free of him and free to love someone else, someone better for her. Even if that person _was_ Liam. And, in turn, Damon figured he was free to find someone else, too. Someone like...

Bonnie. 

There was no denying that Damon spent most of his time thinking about her these days and he had tried to blame it on their connection at first because that was easier to admit to himself than the truth of it, which was that Damon was fascinated by her. It wasn’t a new thing either, not something that had only happened since they’d spent a week together in the Prison World. It was something that had always been in his periphery, even when he was doggedly pursuing Elena. An attraction, almost, but also more than that.

There had always been something about Bonnie, beyond the obvious fact that she was gorgeous. She was also smart and funny and _mean,_ in a way that Damon really enjoyed. Bonnie had always given as good as he gave her when it came to sarcasm and banter; half of that could have been because she genuinely disliked him, but Damon liked to think that she’d always enjoyed the rapport they maintained together just as much as he did. 

Damon couldn’t forget that they had both tried to kill each other almost an equal amount of times. There was a closeness in that. As Damon sipped at the bottle of bourbon he’d stolen from Ric’s office - he _had_ broken in this time - before he had set out on this little self-discovery journey, he let himself think his craziest thought yet: would he be happier now, if he’d pursued Bonnie instead of Elena from the start? 

The immediate answer he came up with was _no._ Or, at least, Damon could recognize that all of the fucked up shit they’d done to each other since they’d first met was necessary, in its own backwards ass way, to the relationship that they had now. 

When he had first met Bonnie, Damon had been made up entirely of sharp edges; he’d basically been bourbon and acerbic wit in the shape of a person. He hadn’t had any impulse control to speak of; he had been quick to anger and even quicker to resort to violence, often just for something to do with his time. While he might not be good for Bonnie now, he would have been fucking awful for her back then. When he’d first arrived back in Mystic Falls she had only been sixteen, beginning to come into herself as a person and as a witch. Hell, she’d tried out half of her spells on him. If Damon had been selfish and reckless, Bonnie had been guileless yet angry at the world at the same time. 

A scared animal, backed into a corner and baring its teeth. 

No, he and Bonnie had both benefited from the experiences and relationships that they had had separate to one another. Loving Elena had taught Damon how to be selfless and gentle, and Bonnie had learned how to be strong and fearless and soft at the same time. If they had made a go of it back then… yeah, no.

Damon snorted and took a swig of bourbon. It wouldn’t have lasted, but the sex would have been _great._ Which is right when the image of a _very_ naked Bonnie flashed across his eyelids. The shock of it almost sent Damon walking right into the path of an oncoming semi trailer, which blared its horn at him. The sound was loud enough that Damon almost threw himself into the forest beside the road, his heart pounding at a million miles a minute in his chest. 

What the fuck was _that?_ He’d been thinking of sex _and_ Bonnie, sure, but what he’d just seen hadn’t been a memory of the one time he’d seen her naked. Damon had thought of _that_ often enough to know the difference. That occasion had been innocent; not _sexless,_ because she was far too good looking for that, but it hadn’t been like this. This was Bonnie practically debauched - Damon had a feeling that he’d seen a flash of panties, pulled to the side - head thrown back and legs spread, though her figure had been blurred like Damon was seeing her through a steamy shower screen as opposed to the perfect HD he wished it had been.

Damon lifted the bottle of bourbon into the moonlight and squinted at the label. What had Ric even put in this stuff? Vervain? That must be it, for Damon to be hallucinating so graphically. He wasn’t _complaining,_ but jesus. Damon was fiercely grateful for the darkness he was cloaked in because he could feel his pulse in his dick, insistent where it was trapped in the tight confines of his suit pants. 

What if he _hadn’t_ been imagining things, and Bonnie was… like that, right now? Obviously turned on and awash with sensation? Damon had left her in the willing hands of Enzo, after all. After watching them kiss that morning Damon knew that there wasn’t an insignificant amount of mutual attraction between them and why didn’t he feel jealous, knowing that? The brief moments he had considered the possibility of Bonnie getting back together with Jeremy, his jaw had clenched so tightly that it had cracked.

Thinking of her with Enzo, wrapped up in him… if anything, Damon was only jealous that he wasn’t there with them both. 

Damon was standing with his back pressed against a tree, staring unseeingly at the road. Every handful of minutes or so a car would drive past, the consequential breeze ruffling his hair, and Damon should keep walking away from the campus. Just because Bonnie was attracted to him didn’t necessarily mean she wanted to be with him - _that she liked him,_ a mean voice in his head whispered - and there wasn’t any reason for him to be turning back towards Whitmore right now.

Except that was exactly what Damon was doing, retracing his steps with a burst of vampire speed buoying him along.

There was a chance that the bourbon _was_ spiked and Damon had just been seeing things; that Bonnie and Enzo were still posted up at the bar, knocking back tequila shots and sharing space. But something told Damon that what he had seen was real, somehow. He didn’t know how he would be seeing Bonnie like that if it weren’t through Enzo’s eyes, though. Then Damon realized he had seen a flash of red against the skin of Bonnie’s thigh. Had Enzo _bitten her?_ Fed from her? Damon almost stumbled while he knocked around in his own head, looking for any sign of a connection to Enzo. There wasn’t anything to find but Damon knew in his bones that that was what had happened: Enzo had fed from Bonnie, and for a moment - perhaps only a handful of seconds - she had been connected to him. 

Had she seen herself the way Enzo was seeing her, too? The thought made Damon’s blood pump faster through his veins. 

It must have only been a minute, two, when Damon stumbled back onto the campus. Almost as soon as he stopped moving Damon could hear Bonnie’s heartbeat, thunderous in his ears. It was disorienting because it felt like she was everywhere at once; he tried to concentrate but it was impossible to trace where exactly she was. Damon immediately ruled out her dorm because Elena was likely still there. That only left Damon with Lexi’s apartment, because he doubted that Bonnie would ever be so desperate that she’d let Enzo fuck her in the bathroom of a bar. 

Before Damon had really considered the ramifications of the action, he was pulling out his phone and hitting his second speed dial. The dial tone rang in his ear and Damon was presented with the opportunity to wonder why he hadn’t just tried to talk to Bonnie over their connection. The answer came to him pretty quickly: if she was with Enzo, Damon wanted to be able to talk to them both. 

The dial tone rang and rang in his ear. Bonnie was definitely giving him ample time to come to his senses and hang up, but Damon was leaning against a lamp post and looking at Lexi’s apartment building a hundred feet away, numbly determined to wait as her heartbeat stayed just as cacophonous in his ears. 

When she finally answered the phone, the pause before she spoke let Damon know that she was trying to steady her breathing. “Damon? I thought you were with Elena?”

Damon had barely thought of Elena since he'd had Bonnie’s naked body blasted into his brain. Wherever Bonnie was there wasn’t much noise in the room and Damon heard a slick sound that had him tipping his head back and biting his lip. His imagination was running wild with what she could be getting up to right now, but Damon had to make sure she was alright first. “Why can I hear your heart pounding right now, Bonnie? Are you okay?”

A huff of breath in his ear, like a delirious laugh. Damon’s heart was pounding almost as hard as hers was, now. “Yeah, I’m fi-” and then there was another noise, even _wetter_ sounding than the one Damon had been graced with previously, followed by a distinctly male groan of pleasure. Damon’s dick was fucking aching, leaking in his briefs. If anyone saw him right now Damon would get arrested for public indecency at the very _least._ Bonnie’s voice in his ear again, higher pitched, “I’m fine!”

Considering that it sounded like Bonnie was getting some seriously impressive head right now, Damon’s money was on it being Enzo driving her up the wall and not Jeremy. Kid was probably hung like a horse but Damon had serious doubts about him being a giver. 

Like Bonnie had realized how damning the noise of it was she had stopped breathing, but that only meant that Damon could hear it like he was in the room when Enzo - it _had_ to be Enzo - switched back to fucking her with his fingers, if Damon had to guess. At some point Damon had started pressing the heel of his palm against the base of his dick and he bit his lip again and forced himself to stop because he _really_ didn’t want to get arrested for being a perv.

With every strained breath he took he expected to hear the dial tone of a dropped call in his ear, but it never came. For some reason Bonnie hadn’t hung up on him and Damon hadn’t hung up on _her_ and they were both participating in this weird and honestly hot as hell version of phone sex and Damon felt like he was going to shake right out of his bones with how turned on he felt. 

This wasn’t normal, right? What they were doing?

Maybe being connected to Bonnie had blurred the line of what constituted _normal._ But Damon’s attraction to her wasn’t conditional to their connection and he was pretty certain that her attraction to him wasn't either. Bonnie had broken up with Jeremy, Damon had ended things with a girl who didn’t even remember loving him anyway… maybe this _was_ the new normal, for them. Maybe all of their little flirtatious comments and touches that had lingered past the point of what was appropriate had been leading up to this point.

Then Enzo must have done something that _really_ did it for Bonnie because there was the creaking of plastic that told Damon she was holding her phone seriously hard against her ear. His suspicions were confirmed when she moaned brokenly and jesus _fucking_ christ, Damon wished he was with them. He was helpless to stop himself from groaning in response and Damon felt embarrassed only for as long as it took for Bonnie and Enzo to echo him, a feedback loop of arousal. Enzo must still have his face pressed against her because Bonnie moaned again, like the vibration from the noise Enzo had let free was moving through her in a way that she really enjoyed. 

Fuck it. Damon was going to leap over the line they’d drawn in the sand and trust that if she needed to, Bonnie would remind him of exactly where the fuck it was. What he was about to do still felt terrifying. Damon took in a sharp breath before he said, his voice laced with arousal even to his own ears, “Enzo?”

Barely a second, then, “Yes, Damon?”

Enzo’s voice was even deeper than usual and Damon’s dick jumped. He could hardly blame Bonnie for saying yes to Enzo - because Damon knew that Enzo would have asked her, _ever the gentleman_ \- because he was so fucking charming and sexier than he had any right to be, really. It was the damn accent. With his ears ringing, Damon made himself say the words he wanted to. 

“Eat our girl right.”

The noise Bonnie made in response could only really be described as a shocked moan and Damon clenched his eyes shut, squeezing his phone hard enough that it creaked warningly. The apartment building was just across the way. He could be in the room with Bonnie and Enzo in seconds, making sure that she really was _theirs._ But somehow this was better, this participating without _really_ participating. 

Damon knew it would make the real thing even hotter. And the real thing? It felt inevitable, now. The smirk in Enzo’s voice was audible when he responded. “Oh, I plan to.”

Hearing Bonnie come would have broken Damon’s resolve. The first sign of it in his ear and he’d be barging into the apartment like some kind of starved animal, desperate. Damon made himself pull the phone away from his ear to end the call and stared at the screen afterwards until it went black, which meant that he was left staring into the inky depths of his own pupils, blown wide with how incredibly turned on he felt. 

He needed to… walk. Yes, that’s what he’d do. He’d go for a walk and calm down and in the morning he’d go and talk to Bonnie, because they _needed_ to talk about this.

Damon didn’t think that there was any question of shared consent because they both could have hung up at any time, putting a stop to what was going on, and they hadn’t. They’d _both_ been participating. But it had been a lot and Damon knew that; Bonnie was probably as overwhelmed as she was turned on by the whole thing. Damon trusted Enzo to look after her - a thought that was only scary for a second - but he also wanted to check on her himself. 

If Damon immediately posted himself up on a bench that had the entrance to Bonnie’s dorm in its sightline, well. Who could really blame him. 

\--

Damon somehow managed to doze, head tipped down against his chest even as he was aware of people walking past as the day lightened around him; he was listening out for Enzo walking Bonnie home like his life depended on it. It was just lucky that no one stopped to ask if he was okay - he heard one girl asking her friend if she should - because he probably looked half crazed even still. 

Getting arrested for loitering or being moved on from his spot wasn’t exactly conducive to talking to Bonnie about what happened last night. And that was assuming that Bonnie was going to come back at all. Damon didn’t know what he would do if Bonnie stayed with Enzo the entire night. At some point her heartbeat had faded back into nothingness, like it should be when he wasn’t within range to hear it. Maybe she and Enzo had gotten themselves nice and fucked out before they decided to sleep it off? 

It was an understatement, to say that Damon’s imagination was running wild with the possibilities of what they could be getting up to without him. Had Bonnie let Enzo _really_ fuck her? The emotions that thought stirred up within Damon were complicated. Conflicting. 

Lexi had to be off somewhere for Enzo to feel comfortable taking Bonnie to her apartment, but they also had no way of knowing when she would come back. No, Enzo would definitely bring Bonnie back to her own dorm. Knowing that didn’t make Damon feel any more patient and now he was back to staring at the door, barely blinking. He checked the time on his phone: six am. 

Just as Damon thought that they _had_ to be coming back soon, surely, he heard Bonnie’s laughter in the distance. 

Damon guessed that she was still a couple of hundred feet away and he was up and moving to stand in the shadows of her dorm like some sort of deviant almost in the same breath, pressing himself against the brick between two bushy shrubs. Shrubby bushes? Point was, he was hiding. Hopefully it was still dark enough that she wouldn’t see him; without his say so, Damon had stopped breathing. With a bit of concentration he managed to get his heartbeat spaced out even more than usual, too. Damon didn’t know why he was doing his best to stay out of sight right now but it probably had something to do with how unnecessarily creepy he was being.

Then his eyes landed on Bonnie. She looked just as gorgeous as she had at the fundraiser, especially considering that she was wearing the same dress. Damon couldn’t see any visible bite marks but he knew in his heart that they were there, probably concealed underneath her clothes. Already his blood was pumping faster and hotter beneath his skin, just from the sight of her. Bonnie was walking arm in arm with Enzo and he had his head bent close to hers, saying something too quietly for Damon to hear even as he strained his ears as much as he could. 

Whatever it was made Bonnie laugh again, the sound loud and bright as she threw her head back, and Damon was half in love with her. Maybe more than half.

As they got closer Damon pressed himself even more firmly against the brick - his suit was going to be fucked, probably - and worried that Bonnie _would_ see him, or Enzo would somehow just know he was there. That was how his luck was going lately, after all. If either of them _did_ see him he had no idea how he could possibly explain away his batshit insane behaviour and he felt almost woozy with anxiety… and then they passed him without incident. Moments later Damon heard the door to Bonnie’s dorm building open and their voices fading into the distance. He slumped against the brick in relief.

Enzo would escort Bonnie to her room and maybe spend a few minutes talking to her - kissing her, if he had his priorities right - and when he left Damon would go and talk to her. But what about Elena? Damon hadn’t seen her leave yet. He couldn’t exactly go and talk to Bonnie about the sex she had just had with the guy they both obviously had a thing for while his ex listened in, even if Elena didn’t remember loving him. It would only create problems for Bonnie and that was something that Damon never wanted to do again.

Like he’d spoken her into existence, Damon pressed himself against the wall all over again when the door opened and Elena walked out, dressed for an early shift at the hospital. He shouldn’t have bothered trying to hide from her, though, because she was on the phone and not paying the slightest bit of attention to the world around her as she walked past him. That same numb feeling from earlier returned and Damon didn’t even attempt to listen to her conversation because caring felt too difficult. Like he was hurting himself for no reason, putting himself out there for a girl who didn’t give a shit about him. Damon was trying to have more self worth than that. It was a process.

Her presence was still distracting enough that Damon jumped like a startled cat when he was suddenly pressed backwards into the rough brick of the dorm, and he had his hands up and fangs bared ready to fight except - oh. Damon recognized that roguish grin and that particular spicy cologne. 

“Fucking hell, Enzo, you scared me!” Damon shoved at Enzo’s shoulders and then left his hands there as he willed his fangs back up into his gums, grinning when Enzo only laughed and let himself be jostled. Damon hadn’t been breathing and his heartbeat was basically as slow as it got. How had Enzo even known that he was there? The point was that he had, and now he was pressed close, closer than Damon would have expected.

The majority of his attention had been focused on Bonnie, before, but now Damon let himself take a good look at Enzo. As usual the warm brown of his eyes looked lit up with amusement and the corner of his mouth was quirked up in the smirk that seemed permanently affixed to his face. Enzo had thrown his suit back on, which made sense considering they weren’t in the habit of storing clothes at Lexi’s apartment; he looked rumpled and he was devastatingly attractive for it. He didn’t smell like sex and Damon let himself mourn that; Enzo and Bonnie must have showered so Elena and Caroline wouldn’t have questions.

Enzo just let Damon look his fill, smirking at him all the while like he realized how well that worked for him. Damon looked down and confirmed that the solid warmth between his legs was Enzo’s muscled thigh and he thought that he should feel crowded, hemmed in. Like Enzo was dominating him even though Damon was taller by about a hair and a half. And maybe Enzo _was_ trying to dominate him, but Damon… he liked it. Even let himself relax into the position a little, considering it wasn’t looking like Enzo was letting him go anywhere anytime soon. Damon smirked back at Enzo. “Fun night?”

It had the desired effect of making Enzo’s gaze on him darken and the undesired effect of Damon’s briefs feeling tighter as a result. Damon knew that he was playing with fire right now but he was feeling brave with Enzo in front of him, blocking out the outside world. If he just focused his hearing on Enzo it was like they were the only two people around for miles and it was a nice feeling. He should have expected it when Enzo pressed forward with his thigh, snug against Damon’s dick. His mouth dropped open of its own accord and Enzo smirked wider. 

“Something like that. Here to make sure Bonnie got home safe?”

Damon sighed before he grinned. “Something like that.” It made Enzo snort and he still wasn’t moving away from Damon; his hands were underneath Damon’s suit jacket, on his waist. Big and warm and recently all over Bonnie, Damon was sure. He squeezed Enzo’s shoulders, his thumbs on Enzo’s neck, and figured that he may as well put his hand completely on the stove. “Did you?”

Confusion drew Enzo’s eyebrows together. “Did I what?”

Damon leaned more heavily against the leg Enzo had in between his thighs, sinking into the feeling of low-grade arousal that hadn’t really left him ever since he heard Bonnie moaning in his ear as Enzo buried his face between her thighs. Enzo’s hands at his waist tightened almost to the point of squeezing and it felt _good._ Good, to be manhandled a little. Lazy with it, like he didn’t care either way, Damon grinned wider. “Did you eat our girl right.”

Okay, _now_ Enzo’s hands were really squeezing Damon’s waist. Referring to Bonnie as belonging to them both made Damon’s dick throb all over again; he knew she was her own person, but try telling his hindbrain that. Or his dick brain. Enzo's pupils were blown and his mouth was hanging open like he couldn’t believe Damon had asked and, well. Damon understood that feeling himself. It was just that he felt half out of his mind with lust right now and it was stopping him from thinking things through properly, not that he’d ever been especially good at that in the first place. 

Voice low and gravely, Enzo exhaled out, “Fucking hell, Damon.” 

Enzo shifted even closer and there was no denying that Damon was feeling a hard dick against his hip right now. Damon looked down and felt his mouth water just a little when he saw the way Enzo’s suit pants were straining against the size of him. Damon had never sucked a dick before but he was thinking that he _really_ wanted to, if it was Enzo’s dick he was sucking.

Except maybe Enzo wasn’t on board with that idea because he reached up with one hand to grip the front of Damon’s throat, a gentle squeeze of pressure that was making Damon’s breath stutter and his pants even tighter. What if Enzo _didn’t_ like the idea of Bonnie being theirs? Belonging to them both? If he was going to get all He Man possessive about her that really wasn’t going to work for Damon, like, at all. 

Enzo tilted Damon’s head back against the brick by putting pressure on his jaw and this wasn’t exactly turning Damon on any _less,_ if that was even Enzo’s goal. Enzo’s voice was practically a growl. “Why don’t you find out, hmm?”

Damon was about to ask - or to _attempt_ to ask - what the fuck _that_ meant when Enzo leaned forward to devour his mouth in a kiss that made the one that they had shared the morning before seem entirely PG-13 by comparison. Damon kissed him back, feeling entirely helpless not to. It took Damon barely a second to acknowledge that the feeling zinging through him as Enzo laid claim to his mouth - because that’s what it felt like he was doing - was only reaffirming that the kiss he’d shared with Elena had felt like nothing.

Because this? This felt like _a lot._

For one, Enzo was licking into Damon’s mouth like he was making a serious go at crawling inside of him, which should have been disturbing but was instead hot as fuck. For two, _Damon could taste Bonnie in Enzo’s mouth. That_ is what Enzo had meant, when he said that Damon should find out for himself. Damon was going out of his goddamn mind right now, moaning like a two-bit whore and trying to suck on Enzo’s tongue at the same time. It felt like he was chasing after the taste of Bonnie, grinding against the thigh that was now pressed firmly against his throbbing dick.

From somewhere nearby someone scoffed, disgusted sounding. “Fucking hell, get a room!” 

There was a thudding noise and Damon pulled away from Enzo’s mouth to see that whoever had complained had also thrown a half-full water bottle at them, the cap thankfully _on._ Damon blinked at it and then looked back at Enzo, who was watching him with something like wariness on his face. Did he expect that hearing the disapproval of one homophobic asshole was going to remind Damon that he was strictly into women, or something? Maybe Damon would have a crisis of sexuality later, but it certainly wasn’t going to happen while he was so turned on that his dick actually hurt a little. 

Damon scoffed and tipped his head back so he could look at Enzo through half-lidded eyes. “Do you think I could get away with killing him?” Enzo laughed and Damon didn’t wait for an answer before he pulled Enzo back in, kissing him with slightly less fervour than before but just as much _oomph._

A handful of minutes - or an hour - later Enzo pulled away, and Damon whined. There wasn’t any other word for it: the noise he made was a pitiful, needy whine. When Enzo grinned he looked like a shark. “Our _mutual friend_ might disapprove,” and the way he said it made it sound really fucking dirty. Enzo pressed forward with his thigh harshly and Damon saw stars for a moment, tipping his head back against the brick as much as the grip Enzo still had on his neck would allow. Would he have bruises? Damon sort of wanted bruises. “Are you planning on going up there with this?”

 _This_ being his near-to-painful erection, Damon assumed. He shook his head. “I would have looked perfectly dignified if you hadn’t assaulted me.”

Enzo removed his hand from around Damon’s throat - bad! - and leaned forward to nip lightly at the thin skin of his neck - extremely good! - before he said against Damon’s throat, “Mmm, you were supremely unwilling about the whole thing, weren’t you?” Damon nodded even as he tilted his head to the side, wordlessly encouraging Enzo to continue. Instead he pulled away completely and Damon groaned.

“Hey, what gives?”

Instead of responding, Enzo just looked at Damon. His eyes were just as dark as they had been two minutes ago but the playful teasing was gone from his expression. Damon froze against the wall like some kind of prey animal. Why did he feel like he was in trouble? He’d been good! Whatever Enzo saw in Damon’s eyes made him shake his head, but he didn’t exactly look disapproving. 

“If you hurt her, Damon, I’ll kill you.”

Oh.

Damon didn’t even bother looking for a lie in the words because he knew he wasn’t going to find one. The old Damon would have made some sort of crass joke, but the new Damon was aware that Enzo was being completely serious. It was clear that Enzo only had Bonnie’s best interests at heart, that he only wanted the best for her; part of Enzo obviously worried that Damon wasn’t it. As much as it stung, it was fair. Track records, and all of that. 

Damon just tightened his hands on Enzo’s shoulders as he stood up from his slouch; Enzo took his thigh from between Damon’s legs and the sudden lack of pressure against his dick was as much a relief as it was a travesty. It did help Damon focus, though. Enough to say, “If I hurt her, I’ll let you.”

It must have been the answer that Enzo wanted to hear because after a tense moment he smiled and huffed a laugh, like he was relieved. Like he had sort of expected that Damon might just want to fuck Bonnie, or that he didn’t feel anything beyond lust for her. Damon was happy to have reassured Enzo of the opposite: the word for Damon’s feelings for Bonnie’s started with an ‘L’, but it wasn’t lust. 

Enzo’s eyes were still on his face and Damon felt like he was being Seen right now. He thought that maybe he should feel uncomfortable about it, that he should be trying to avoid Enzo’s gaze more, but he wasn’t ashamed of what he felt. More than that he wasn’t afraid of Enzo seeing it when Damon was almost certain that Enzo felt the same way about Bonnie. It was confusing that Damon didn’t feel competitive about it, but he was willing to roll with the punches.

It was still a surprise when Enzo leaned forward to kiss Damon again, this time significantly softer if no less open-mouthed. Damon sighed into it, his eyes falling shut. It felt like acceptance, or a thank you. When Enzo pulled back this time - Damon didn’t know if he would have ended the kiss himself, otherwise - his eyes were much more gentle. 

“Go get our girl.”

_Oh._

So that was a hard ‘no’ on Enzo being possessive, then. Enzo threatening his life had made Damon’s erection wilt a little but now he had to grit his teeth against the urge to pull Enzo in close again. He had a Bennett witch to talk to, after all. Something told Damon that he’d have plenty of opportunities to fuck Enzo through a wall in the future. Or to _be fu -_ No, Damon had to think of something else or Bonnie would call campus security on him instead of letting him into her room. Damon stood straight and brushed down the front of his suit, trying to get himself looking relatively put together. Enzo reached out to fix Damon’s hair and why did he feel like he was blushing? He swatted at Enzo’s hand and got a laugh for his troubles. 

Enzo moved out of the way and Damon walked past him to discover that there _was_ a world past Enzo’s broad shoulders: students were beginning to mill about as the world woke up around them. Enzo’s voice had Damon focusing on him again. “Elena texted Bonnie last night. She knows that you told Elena to be happy without you. That was noble, Damon.”

Without giving him the opportunity to respond, Enzo darted forward to press a kiss against Damon’s cheek - was that going to be their thing, now? - before he whooshed away to do who knew what. 

Bonnie knowing that he and Elena had quote-unquote broken up certainly made Damon’s life a little easier, if the conversation they were about to have went in the direction that he was thinking it might. He grinned to himself before he walked around to the entrance of her dorm.

Enzo was right: Damon had a girl to get.

\--

It wouldn’t have been true to say that Damon had a plan as he walked into Bonnie’s dorm, beyond talking to her. He hadn’t thought about what he wanted to say at all which he realized now was a gross oversight on his part, considering the last thing he had said to her had literally been mid-oral sex. _Especially_ considering that what he’d said had been wildly possessive, perhaps even inappropriate given the current parameters of their friendship. 

They were actually a little foggy, to Damon. The parameters. 

Even before they’d stumbled into their connection in the Prison World he and Bonnie had been happily leaping over whatever lines in the sand that Damon would have previously thought existed. She’d come to him, scared, and he’d hugged her. They’d slept in the same bed together. Cooked meals for each other. Sought each other out like they couldn’t bear to not be touching. It was impossible to forget that they had also had sex fully clothed; Damon thought of that at _least_ five times a day. 

The point was, he had no idea what he was going to say to her. Maybe that was why Damon had been standing in front of her door, arms hanging at his side, for the past five or so minutes. Surely knocking was a good place to start? Follow that up with a casual _hi_ and Damon would be kicking goals! 

Except Bonnie opened the door before he could even lift a hand. Damon opened his mouth to say something - anything! - but as soon as he saw her he lost his grasp on the English language; she was wearing a forest green tank top - no bra - and shorts that were only slightly longer than those devilish ones she’d worn in the Prison World. Damon was staring, the memory of a blurred image of her naked, panties pulled to the side and thigh red with her own blood flashing across his eyelids for what felt like the hundredth time. His mouth was fucking dry. Was the bite mark still there, or had it healed? Damon was desperate to know.

Sounding amused - which was fair, considering that Damon probably looked like a space case right now - Bonnie asked, “How long were you just gonna stand there for?” 

Damon made himself drag his eyes up her body and something in his expression made Bonnie’s mouth part; he hadn’t noticed, before, but her green eyes looked even greener and her skin was flushed and somehow radiant at the same time. The glow that came from being well-fucked. Damon could barely form a _thought._ Then Bonnie shifted slightly and the coppery smell of fresh blood hit his nose. 

If what he had seen _had_ been real, the bite was still there. Damon was moving forward before he’d given any real thought to whether what he was doing was insane or not.

Bonnie made a startled noise and stumbled back from him but Damon couldn’t help but advance on her, a predator stalking prey. Bonnie landed on her bed with an _oof_ and Damon was standing so close to her that his legs were pressed against hers. With a lift of his hand her bedroom door closed behind them - he still had enough control to stop it from slamming, which felt like a small miracle - and the hustle and bustle of students getting ready for the day disappeared like he and Bonnie were in their own personal bubble away from everyone else. 

Screw everything he’d ever said about the stuff: Damon _loved_ magic.

Understandably, Bonnie looked like she couldn’t decide between confusion and annoyance at him acting so fucking weird without any explanation or warning. “Damon, what are you doing?”

Damon looked down at her. Her legs were parted, just a little, and her chest was heaving with nervous breaths. All Damon could think about was his need to touch her. To be close to her. He sunk to his knees in front of her and Bonnie gasped, looking like she was struggling to keep up with what was happening. Damon knew how she felt because he’d left his good decision-making skills at the door to operate solely on instinct, which is probably why he had his hands on the soft warmth of Bonnie’s legs right now.

Speaking to her knees like that would make it easier to get the words out, Damon said, “Tell me to stop, Bon. Tell me to stop and I will.” Even he didn’t know exactly what he meant. Stop touching her right now? Stop himself from going any further? He was leaving the ball in Bonnie’s court, regardless. Damon didn’t say anything else and he spent a minute, two, listening to Bonnie breathe above him. When her fingers threaded through his hair he shuddered out a breath and looked up at her.

Bonnie’s eyes were intent on him, her gaze… wondering, almost. She was so goddamn beautiful that Damon couldn’t look away from her, not even when she asked, “What do you want, Damon?”

It was a loaded question. Damon knew that he could make a joke and he and Bonnie would go back to whatever in-between place they had been in before; something slightly more than friends, but not quite what Damon knew that they _could_ be, if they just let themselves. Or he could buck up and make the decision to cross the newest line in the sand created by what had happened last night, blindly hoping that he wouldn’t be alone in doing it. If he did that Damon thought there probably wouldn’t be any way of going back across it, but he didn’t care. 

No, Damon just _wanted._ The complete stillness around them granted by whatever spell he had put on the room made it easier to be honest. “I want to kiss you.”

Silence, and then: “ _Oh._ ” 

Bonnie’s eyes were wide and her mouth was parted; she was shocked. That told Damon that Enzo wasn’t the only one who thought that Damon only wanted to fuck her, and he wanted to slap himself. Damon might spend the majority of time blocking her from his emotions, but surely she had noticed? Noticed the way he looked at her, and the way his hands on her never really fell into the category of _just friends?_ Damon wanted to fuck Bonnie, don’t get him wrong, but now that he wasn’t being blinded by the sun otherwise known as Elena Gilbert, he could recognize that he wanted to _be with_ Bonnie.

Maybe in a permanent way, which wasn’t as terrifying of a thought when Damon acknowledged that he’d been thinking it for a while, now. At least since the Prison World; at least since Bonnie let him offer her comfort in the form of a hug.

Damon was scared to move. Scared, as always, of rejection. What if she only wanted Enzo, now, and he was too late? What if Damon had been misinterpreting the way _she_ looked at him, the way _she_ touched him, and she only thought of him as a particularly affectionate friend? Then Bonnie’s hand shifted from his hair to his jaw. When her thumb pressed against his bottom lip looking at her became too hard and Damon let his eyes fall shut, desperately hoping. Was it foolish of him to be putting his heart in someone else’s hands so soon after having it crushed by Elena?

But maybe Elena hadn’t crushed his heart. As Damon knelt in front of Bonnie, both of her hands cradling his face now, he thought that there was actually a chance that Elena had freed him. By erasing him - and her memories of loving him - from her mind, Elena could have given them both a chance to try living separately… or to try things out with someone else.

“D?” Hearing his nickname made Damon open his eyes. Bonnie was smiling at him and it felt dangerous to hope, reckless, but her heartbeat was steady and she was still touching him. It was obvious that the idea of him wanting to kiss her wasn’t repulsive, at least. That had to mean something.

“Yeah?” It was barely above a whisper, but it felt like all Damon could manage right now. All that he had the stomach for.

“I’m not going to tell you to stop.”

She… _wasn’t?_ Damon had asked her to tell him to stop and she was saying she wouldn’t. Did that mean Damon was allowed to kiss her? Something like joy flooded through Damon but he felt rooted in place, knees glued to the floor. Bonnie had just opened a world of options up to him and Damon was absolutely petrified of fucking it up. It meant too much to him to just rush into it, to turn it into some quick and hard fuck, as good as Damon was sure that would be.

Bonnie laughed and Damon blinked at her, confused as hell. She leant over him, her hair falling in a curtain around their faces. Damon’s heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest or just stop beating entirely; it was a good thing that wouldn’t kill him. Bonnie smelled good, like whatever product she’d used at Lexi’s apartment but also just like _herself_ and Damon couldn’t think. He was _feeling_ personified, right now. “Bon -”

“Kiss me, Damon.”

Damon had never been the type of guy to argue with a woman who knew what she wanted. All of the blood in his body was quickly heading south and he reached up to curve his hand around the back of Bonnie’s neck. The air around them felt tense, felt heated and somehow soft and the same time, and Damon wanted to go for it, but he also wanted to say something first, and that was: 

“Sorry for making you wait.” 

Whether he meant just now or for the entire length of time that this had been building between them, Damon didn’t know. It was hard to say who leaned forward first but suddenly the scant inch of distance between their mouths was gone and they were sharing the same air, each waiting to see who would make the final leap across the line. 

And then Damon pressed his mouth to Bonnie’s, and his entire world shifted on its axis. If kissing Elena had felt like kissing a sibling and kissing Enzo felt fucking great, Damon didn’t even have words to describe what kissing Bonnie felt like. Feeling her mouth against his and the way that she was pressing into him, her hands warm of his face… 

Damon felt more alive than he had in one hundred and eighty years. 

\--

**bonnie -**

Bonnie was just wiping come from the corner of her mouth and trying to subtly crack her jaw when her phone buzzed from somewhere in the depths of the bedsheets. Considering Enzo was still blinking up at the ceiling unseeingly, Bonnie leaned over him and felt around until she hit plastic. Enzo came back to himself enough to wrap an arm around her, yanking her bodily against him, and Bonnie grinned as she unlocked her phone.

And then she saw the message from Elena; she’d sent it to Bonnie and Caroline. _Things didnt work out w Damon - he said wed b happier w/ out each other._

“Holy fuck.”

“Hmm?” Enzo was trailing his fingers up and down her back and Bonnie could already feel him getting hard against her thigh. _Again._ She’d probably be thinking about sucking his dick a third time - she didn’t think she’d ever get tired of it - if her ears weren’t ringing, disbelief holding her almost completely still. Enzo’s fingers paused at her waist and he turned his head to look at her properly. “Bonnie?”

Bonnie turned her phone so Enzo could see the screen. She’d been staring at it long enough that she needed to tap the screen to get it to light up again, and then she watched as Enzo’s eyebrows climbed up his forehead. The shock on his face summed up Bonnie’s feelings on the matter: Damon might have been reluctant to keep putting his heart on the line when he was only getting it trampled by Elena, but Bonnie never would have guessed that he’d just _give up._

Enzo tossed her phone back into the sheets and rolled them both until he could loom over Bonnie, only the looming was annoying sexy. Instead of lying on top of her like Bonnie thought he might, Enzo lay on his side next to her and propped himself up an elbow so he could look at her. It was probably a good thing: if Enzo made her come one more time Bonnie thought she might be in serious danger of losing feeling in her legs. His _mouth,_ god. 

Except it didn’t look like sex was on his mind. Enzo’s eyes were shifting across her face like he was looking for any minute shift in her expression and Bonnie imagined that if there was anything to see, he’d find it. She couldn’t feel a connection to him - one that felt like her connection to Damon, anyway - no matter how hard she looked for it, but it was like Enzo just came pre-programmed with the ability to read her mind. 

That being said, he was still polite enough to ask. “How do you feel, love?”

As much as Bonnie had been expecting the question, she had no idea how to answer it. Bonnie had known that she had feelings for Damon since the Prison World, yet she had pushed him towards Elena at every opportunity even when watching Damon look at Elena felt like a knife in Bonnie’s heart every time. When she didn’t respond straight away Bonnie saw concern furrow Enzo’s brows. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face with a gentle hand and Bonnie smiled at him, aware that she probably looked a little out of it right now. “I don’t know. Sad for Damon, I guess? I wanted him to be happy… I wanted it to work out for him.”

Bonnie didn’t know why Elena’s feelings in the matter weren’t really a factor for her. Since they’d gotten back Elena hadn’t been the same and it was even harder for Bonnie to reconcile when she knew that a lot of that was because Elena didn’t remember loving Damon. Whether Elena wanted to acknowledge it or not - and Bonnie was betting she didn’t - Damon had made Elena a better person. More vibrant, more fearless. Just _more._

The Elena walking around now wasn’t really a person that Bonnie thought she recognized, anymore.

When Bonnie emerged from her thought spiral it was to find that Enzo was grinning at her. He pressed a kiss to her exposed shoulder and he looked _fond._ Something about that made Bonnie feel warm for reasons that had nothing to do with his dick against her hip. He trailed kisses up her neck and finally pressed a kiss to the edge of her mouth and Bonnie turned her head to accommodate him, easy as anything. Kissing Enzo already felt like second nature even as it felt like being zapped with electricity at the same time; something she could feel right down to her toes. 

Enzo pulled away from her mouth enough to say, “You wanted him to be happy, even if it meant he was with your best friend.” A quick peck on the lips, followed by, “You’re too good a woman for man alone, Bonnie Bennett.”

As much as the words filled her with warmth, Bonnie shook her head against the lie in them. “If that was true, I wouldn’t want him.” 

If Bonnie was really a good person, she never would have looked at Damon in a way that wasn’t strictly friendly while he was still with Elena. It shouldn’t have mattered that they were in the Prison World, unsure if they would ever get out, because _her best friend_ was with Damon. That was basic girl code: hands off your friend’s boyfriend. And the thing was, Bonnie had never struggled with that before. Not with Matt, and certainly not with Stefan. They had never intrigued her the same way Damon did; they never caught her eye and made it impossible to look away.

Enzo made a considering noise from beside her and pressed another open-mouthed kiss to her shoulder. He was still hard against her hip but he didn’t seem bothered by it, nor did it look like he was going to try to steer their conversation towards orgasm territory any time soon. Bonnie could feel a simmering sort of arousal herself but it was strangely comfortable, to just be close to each other like they were. Another kiss, this one to her collarbone; Bonnie tilted her head to the side to make room and gasped when Enzo’s voice rumbled against her neck. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting him.”

There was that hint in Enzo’s words again, the implication that he felt something for Damon. Bonnie’s simmering arousal edged closer to a boil. She kept reliving flashes of that morning: watching Enzo licking possessively into Damon’s mouth, and the way that Damon hadn’t been able to help thrusting up against nothing when Enzo had pulled away. “Do you? Want him?”

The hand that Enzo had been resting on her stomach made its way lower and screw not being able to feel her legs later, because Bonnie was shifting around to accommodate the fingers that Enzo slid back inside of her. Enzo’s mouth found hers just as he slid his fingers deep and curled them and Bonnie arched against him, moaning into his mouth like she hadn’t already come a handful of times. She blindly reached out to grasp the length of Enzo’s dick and he gasped against her, rolling his hips forward before he pulled away from her mouth. 

“Wanting Damon… I’m old hat at that, by now.”

Bonnie might have wondered more about the morals of discussing one man while being finger fucked by another, but then Enzo rolled on top of her and Bonnie wasn’t thinking about much beyond the need to come. Priorities.

\--

They must have dozed for a while because Bonnie woke up to soft lips at her throat and after a moment, she realized that Enzo was pressing her name into her skin. She sighed and stretched before she opened her eyes, assuming that it would be light around them. Only the room was still dark, and her phone when she picked it up told her that it was only five in the morning. Bonnie groaned and shoved at Enzo until he landed on his back, promptly rolling herself on top of him and closing her eyes again.

“Why am I awake right now?”

Enzo’s laugh buzzed beneath her ear. His hand landed on her back so he could trail his fingers up and down her spine like they belonged there and Bonnie, in her half-asleep state, realized she’d be happy if they _did_. “We should probably clean up and make ourselves scarce, love. Lexi could be back soon.”

 _That_ woke Bonnie up like a jolt of electricity. She sat up and looked down at Enzo; the moon was behind some clouds and she realized that she could only see him at all because of the near-to-perfect night vision her new vampire perks gave her. _Nice._ He was smirking at her, which wasn’t surprising at all, just like the smell of sex in the room wasn’t surprising either. They definitely had to leave soon, but Bonnie was in dire need of a shower first. 

Which is how she found herself standing underneath the water with Enzo pressed snugly against her, not doing much in the way of getting clean at all. 

Bonnie had started out with good intentions, she really had. The only problem was that Enzo was built like some sort of Greek god. He was all muscle and tanned skin; big hands that kept reaching out for her and a chest just hairy enough that Bonnie could barely stop herself from rubbing up on him like a cat. Which was exactly what she was doing right now as Enzo kissed her, his hands in her hair pulling _just right_ as Bonnie pressed herself as tightly to him as she possibly could. 

The hard line of his dick was pressing against Bonnie's skin and she didn’t know how she could possibly be horny considering how many times they’d made each other come already, but she couldn’t stop thinking of him fucking her. It was one of the only things that they hadn’t done yet; by some unspoken agreement they had skirted around it and if Bonnie thought about the likely reason for too long she would make herself lightheaded with all of the blood rerouting itself to rest between her legs.

It was hard - ha! - to know if what was happening between her and Enzo right now was a flash in the pan sort of thing or if it was something that could actually last. There was mutual attraction between them, sure, but Bonnie had feelings of the Big variety for Damon that she couldn’t exactly ignore. In saying that... the more time she spent with Enzo, the more she felt that way about him _too_. Bonnie wondered if she should feel slutty about that, or greedy, but it was difficult to convince herself of that when Enzo had already told her that what she was feeling was okay.

That it was okay, because Enzo felt it too. So maybe it wasn’t conventional, to want Damon and Enzo at the same time, but Bonnie wasn’t feeling as ashamed about it as she thought she might. It felt too easy, too _right,_ for her to feel bad about it. What she had with them both felt like the sort of comfort that was borne out of being in a relationship with someone for years and Bonnie didn’t know how to feel about it. She could question it - rebel against it, even - or she could just lean into it, literally. 

Like she was leaning into Enzo right now, tilting her head to the side so he could better drag his mouth along her neck. And she knew what she wanted, suddenly, and it was the next best thing to being fucked. Nonchalant, like she didn’t care either way, Bonnie said, “You could bite me again, you know.”

Enzo groaned against her and rolled his hips; Bonnie could smell his precome even with the water raining down on them and it made her mouth water and her clit throb. Like he didn’t need to be told twice, Bonnie felt his fangs grazing her skin almost immediately after the words had left her mouth. Her blood pumped impossibly faster around her body and when he sank his fangs into the juncture of her neck and shoulder, Bonnie shuddered where she stood and pressed even closer to him.

As he drank from her Bonnie felt _something._ It still wasn’t exactly like her connection to Damon, but it was similar. Similar enough that Bonnie craved more, moaning when Enzo reached up to cradle the opposite side of her neck with one of his hands. And maybe she _was_ being greedy, if she wanted Enzo and Damon in a physical sense - more of a _relationship_ sense, if she was being honest with herself - and in a weird psychic sense as well. But Bonnie was tired of putting other people’s needs first: if she wanted this, she was going to have it. 

Enzo moved away from her neck and Bonnie couldn’t look away from the blood on his fangs. _Her_ blood. When she kissed him she could taste herself and it was better than she would have ever thought it would be; Bonnie languidly kissed Enzo until the need to come got too overwhelming to ignore. The way Enzo looked at her when she pulled away from his mouth certainly wasn’t helping things. 

Without saying anything Bonnie turned around in his arms, reaching behind herself to wrap a hand around his dick. Enzo swore and fucked into her grip and Bonnie couldn’t help but grin because this was going to be so fucking good, she could already tell. With her other hand Bonnie braced herself against the shower tiles and stood on her tiptoes, guiding Enzo’s dick between her thighs and _squeezing._ Almost immediately Enzo thrust against her and it was _literally_ against her, the thick warmth of his dick gliding along her wet folds in a way that had Bonnie’s mouth dropping open. 

“Holy _fuck,_ Bonnie!”

Bonnie shivered in place and grinned at the wall as she nudged her hips back against Enzo’s, encouraging him to keep thrusting. “Good, right?”

This was impossible to do with Jeremy; he was too tall. Enzo was the perfect height, though, and he only confirmed that when he immediately established a rhythm that had Bonnie gasping and closing her eyes against the intensity of the feeling. Enzo groaned and wrapped an arm around her to pull her even closer as he gave a particularly forceful thrust; they swore in tandem and this was working out even better than she had thought it would. 

Bonnie whimpered when his dick caught against her like he was going to fuck _inside_ but he was too big and she mourned that for a moment before she reassured herself that _next time,_ he could fuck her properly _next time_. Something about the thought had her opening her eyes to look down and watch, her mouth dropping open at the sight of the flushed head of Enzo’s dick rubbing against her whenever he thrust forward. 

Enzo might not be fucking her properly, but Bonnie could tell that it was going to be more than enough to get them both across the line. 

The feeling of it was so good that Bonnie couldn’t focus on anything else; the roar of the water falling around them was secondary to the sound of Enzo fucking against her. When Enzo sank his fangs into her neck again and reached down to rub at her clit at the same time, Bonnie clenched her thighs even tighter around him and came with a shout that was _definitely_ too loud for the hour; even if they managed to get out of Lexi’s apartment before she came back, her neighbours complaining about the noise would have them found out pretty damn quickly. 

Then Bonnie almost came all over again when Enzo followed right after her, his come coating the inside of her thighs in a way that made her feel insane in the absolute best way. God, she wanted to feel that _inside_ so badly. Enzo groaned like he agreed, clenching his hands on Bonnie’s sides hard enough to bruise. She was glad for the feeling because it made her feel more grounded in her body. Otherwise, she was so happy right then that she might have floated away. 

That feeling only magnified when Enzo took it upon himself to gently scrub her down, soaping her up in a way that managed to feel _loving_ instead of inherently sexual. It was that, and not all of the other things they had done so far, that made Bonnie blush and dodge his gaze. Understanding - as he always seemed to - Enzo only pressed a kiss to her shoulder and continued on.

Maybe they had finally crested the hill of the urgent and incessant need to come because they actually managed to keep their hands off of each other for long enough to finish their shower and dry off. Once she’d wrapped a towel around herself Bonnie dragged her hand across the mirror to get rid of the steam. Then she saw that her neck was free of a bite mark, and her heart rate ratcheted up by at least half. 

“Woah, what’s wrong?”

Enzo was at her side straight away, eyes wide with concern. Bonnie glanced at him before she was parting her legs to look for the other bite mark, gripping the bathroom counter in relief when she saw that it was still there. If it was gone she didn’t know what she would have done, beyond asking Enzo to bite her again immediately. And then she realized why the mark on her neck was gone; Enzo must have encouraged it to heal when Bonnie was coming down from her orgasm. Bonnie touched her neck. “Why did you -”

It was too hard to get the words out when embarrassment was making her blush. But when Enzo saw where she was touching her neck, he seemed to understand what she meant. His gaze darkened and he pressed close, wrapping his arm around her waist as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the opposite side of her neck. It felt like an apology and Bonnie leaned into him. “You’ve only got your dress to put back on. I figured you wouldn’t want to be fielding questions you might not be in the mood to answer.”

Well… now Bonnie felt like an idiot. Enzo seemed to put her needs first without even thinking about it. It hadn’t occurred to Bonnie at all that she might not want Caroline or Elena or _Jeremy_ seeing the bite mark but Enzo was right: she might not be ashamed of what they’d done - not even the slightest bit - but she also wasn’t in the mood to advertise it. Not yet. 

The day after she’d ended things with Jeremy was _definitely_ a little premature.

Bonnie turned in Enzo’s arms so she could kiss him properly, resting her forehead against his when she needed to stop for air. “Thank you.” Enzo nodded and pressed a kiss to her temple and Bonnie could feel his smile. 

Enzo took her hand and walked them out into the bedroom, reaching down to pick something up off of the floor that he presented to her with a flourish: her panties. Bonnie couldn’t stop herself from laughing before she took them, sliding them on slower than she might have otherwise if she didn’t have Enzo watching her do it. Enzo grabbed her dress and helped her into it, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of her neck where the bite mark had been. That kiss felt like a _promise._

One that Bonnie intended on collecting on, but not right now. Another glance at her phone told Bonnie that it was quarter to six already and with no way of knowing when Lexi might come bursting through the door, they should probably leave sooner rather than later. Enzo finished putting his suit back on - Bonnie mourned the loss of all of that bare skin - and offered her an arm like he hadn’t spent hours debauching her. She grinned at him and took it, and then they walked out into the early morning air.

It felt like the last however many hours had been some strange, lovely dream.

Damon walking away from her to pursue Elena could have very well ruined Bonnie’s night if Enzo had let it, but he’d swooped in like the metaphorical knight in shining armor to make sure that she had a good time instead. And fuck, she _really_ had. The sex was great, sure, but it had been just as great to get closer to Enzo. He’d done some shitty things in the past but he was still compassionate and affectionate and caring. Deciding to tell him about her connection to Damon had been a split second decision but it was one that Bonnie was happy she had made; it felt good that someone else was clued in.

There was also the part where Enzo had admitted to having feelings for Damon too. Admitted to _wanting_ Damon. Bonnie might have guessed at that after watching them kiss but having it confirmed made her feel… she didn’t know. Curious, maybe, to see what would happen if Damon knew. Especially now that he had given up on making his relationship with Elena work. She knew the idea of it _definitely_ turned her on more than a little, which she would likely be too embarrassed to ever admit. 

It felt like a whole new avenue of possibilities was opening up in front of Bonnie and she couldn’t stop smiling. Enzo looked at her and grinned too when he saw her expression; his eyes were warm and sparkling and Bonnie wanted to press herself even closer to him. Then he poked her in the side and Bonnie shrieked before she laughed and tried to squirm away from him, which was hard to do when he wasn’t letting go of her arm.

Enzo pulled her back in close, ducking his head so he could speak right against her ear. “Hope looks good on you, love.”

Instead of wondering how he could possibly know the direction of her thoughts, Bonnie only laughed again because he was right: she did feel full of hope, right now. She was just crossing her fingers that it wouldn’t turn out to be the foolish kind.

But Bonnie was obviously feeling a little foolish, because it didn’t occur to her that Elena might still be at the dorm until they were right outside the door and could hear the movement coming from within. She froze and looked at Enzo, sure that her eyes were wide. She had only broken up with Jeremy yesterday and there was a chance that Elena might not even _know_ yet, and here Bonnie was with another guy? _Enzo,_ no less? It was a good thing that they had had a shower and wouldn’t smell like sex… but showing up in last night’s clothes was just as damning, really. 

The fact that they were practically plastered to each other wouldn’t help things either, but damn if Bonnie was going to move away from Enzo right now. She already felt used to the feeling of him at her side and the pressure of his hands on her; the spicy, outdoorsy smell of his cologne felt permanently etched into her nose. As strange as it was, she sort of loved it.

Whatever fear and worry she might feel, Bonnie still didn’t resist when Enzo pulled her in close to press a kiss against her mouth. If anything she only sank into it, immediately feeling calmer just to have him close. She might have wondered if this was going to last before, but now she felt like she had her answer. Enzo wasn’t giving her any indications that this was just a one time thing, even if it had started because he had wanted to lift her spirits with his dick. They both had their attraction to Damon to consider, but they could figure things out as they went, right?

A clattering sound from within her dorm startled Bonnie out of her thoughts and away from Enzo’s mouth and it was just in time, too, because Elena opened the door only to freeze in place as soon as she saw them. 

“Bonnie!” Elena’s eyebrows were almost comically high on her forehead and yet she managed to look confused at the same time as her eyes darted down to where Enzo was still holding Bonnie’s waist. Feeling defiant for reasons that she didn’t understand, Bonnie didn’t move away from him. “Hi! Where were you last night? You never replied to my text.”

The lie came worryingly easy and Bonnie could only hope that Elena wouldn’t hear it. “Yeah, sorry! I thought that things might work out with Damon so I stayed at Lexi’s apartment… I was sleeping and didn’t see the text.”

It was obvious that Elena was desperate to ask about Enzo - sleeping alone, or together? - and that she didn’t know whether she should ask outright or wait to corner Bonnie about it later. Bonnie glanced at him out the corner of her eye to see that he was grinning like the cat that got the cream and she had to cough to stifle the laugh that wanted to burst out of her. Elena’s phone buzzed in her hand and she looked down at it, frowning when she saw the name on the screen: Liam. 

God, she’d just left him at the fundraiser last night, hadn’t she? That probably hadn’t been her finest move. Enzo’s grip on Bonnie’s waist tightened as he tugged her to the side and she looked up at him in askance, but he was still grinning at Elena. When he put a hand on Elena’s shoulder she jumped like he had shocked her and moved away from him. “You’d better get that, hmm? Don’t let us keep you.”

Enzo’s use of ‘us’ had Elena frowning all over again. She was dressed for a shift at the hospital and Bonnie was thrilled, because it meant she had hours to come up with a plausible story about what she'd been getting up to. The internal battle waging within Elena was obvious because she literally looked from Bonnie and Enzo to the entrance to their dorm and back again. Her options were to either answer Liam’s call or get the question and answer session underway right now. 

Bonnie tried not to visibly cross her fingers as she prayed for Elena to choose door number one. Even as she was worried, Bonnie felt perversely delighted by this whole interaction and she had no idea why; maybe she was connected to Enzo in some way after all, and it was _his_ amusement she was feeling? Either way, Bonnie was struggling not to giggle. 

Eventually Elena groaned and nodded, dashing off down the hall and answering her phone without saying goodbye. Bonnie waited until she heard the front door of the building open and close behind Elena before she started to laugh. Enzo joined in and they leant against each other, literally shaking with mirth. It felt like Bonnie had _just_ gotten away with something, even if she could recognize that the relief was only temporary. Enzo pressed a kiss to her temple and the feeling of being cared for multiplied within her, so much so that she _had_ to kiss him again, properly. 

Enzo made a happy noise into her mouth and it made Bonnie smile; the fond look he gave her when she pulled away made her smile even wider. “Thank you, Enzo.” And she was thanking him for the sex, there was no doubting that, but also for the way he was making her feel. Special, and cherished. It was a heady feeling. 

The grin that Enzo gave her in response was enough to have Bonnie feeling weak at the knees, even after everything. His hand at her waist tightened and Bonnie felt like she wouldn’t be able to move away from him even if she tried, especially when he swayed closer and said, “Know that I’m being entirely sincere when I tell you _anytime,_ love.”

And with those parting words, Enzo pressed a kiss into her hair and whooshed out of her dorm. Bonnie blinked at the spot he had just been occupying and then laughed, delighted. Enzo kept her on her toes and made her feel like she was the only woman in the room at the same time, which was a feeling Bonnie could see herself getting addicted to really easily. And what was wrong with that, really? Nothing. After the last couple of years, Bonnie felt like she deserved a bit of happiness even if it _was_ coming from a morally gray vampire. Hell, maybe _especially_ if it was coming from a morally gray vampire. 

Bonnie was eager to see where this thing with Enzo was going to go. But her priorities right now were getting out of her dress, staring at the bite mark that he had left on her thigh, and sleeping for the next eight hours at least before she even considered trying to talk to Damon about everything that had happened. She felt like she deserved that, too.

Trust Damon to have his own order of doing things.

\--

Bonnie managed to check off two of the items on her list before Damon interrupted her. Her dress and ruined panties got thrown into the already overflowing laundry basket - Bonnie had to do some creative rearranging to hide them beneath some other clothes - and she pulled on some sleep shorts and a ribbed tank top, no intentions of going anywhere that wasn’t her bed. 

Before that, though… Bonnie parted her legs to get another look at the bright red impression that Enzo’s fangs had left on the soft skin of her inner thigh. Just the sight of it was enough to make Bonnie’s skin tighten and her blood pump faster, but touching it? That made Bonnie groan. A little droplet of blood welled up and curiosity overtook her, strong enough that she didn’t think about it too hard before she was swiping her thumb through it and bringing it to her mouth. 

It tasted like blood, basically, not half as good as it had tasted when she was licking it out of Enzo's mouth. On its own it was nothing special to Bonnie; Damon and Enzo’s blood tasted at least ten times better, but that was probably just because it was blood that didn’t actually belong to her. That’s what she was going to put it down to, anyway. 

Bonnie had been lifting the sheets to get into bed when she heard Damon’s heartbeat at her door. Considering she hadn’t been expecting to hear from him so soon - irrespective of their connection, hale and hearty in her head - Bonnie had frozen with one knee on her bed, waiting for him to knock. Only he didn’t, so Bonnie had opened the door to him instead.

Nothing that had happened since made sense to her. Because the present moment found Bonnie sitting on her bed with Damon kneeling in front of her, her hand carding through the thick strands of his hair as he told her that he wanted to kiss her. There was no way that this wasn’t a dream, because it _had_ to be. It was exactly the type of trick her subconscious would pull.

This was Damon Salvatore, _very_ recent ex of Bonnie’s best friend. The very same Salvatore brother who she would have probably willingly stabbed with something sharp and wooden only two weeks ago, even though Stefan did have his moments. Damon, who Bonnie had the strongest feelings she had experienced for after spending a solitary week together, able to talk and touch and _feel_ uninterrupted. Or, not just because of that. But that’s what Bonnie felt comfortable admitting to herself.

Surely she could be forgiven, for being a little shocked right now? That he was attracted to her wasn’t a surprise - his gaze on her when she’d opened the door had felt like a physical thing, practically a caress - but Damon wanting to do anything more than simply _fucking her_ was. Maybe it was childish of Bonnie to assign a higher level of intimacy and meaningfulness to the act of kissing someone, but she couldn’t help it. Kissing meant more, and Damon wanted to kiss her.

Even as her heart surely thundered away in her chest, Bonnie couldn’t help but press her thumb into the softness of Damon’s bottom lip. His eyes fell shut at the touch and Bonnie felt a little insane and a lot manic; he looked like some sort of fallen angel, disheveled and kneeling at her feet like he was. The way she felt for him was so huge that Bonnie worried it was going to swallow her whole. She cradled his face in both of her hands all the same. “D?”

Damon opened his eyes and the blind hope in them made Bonnie smile at him, even as she struggled to swallow around the lump of happiness that felt lodged in her throat. Happiness mixed with disbelief. His voice was soft, like he thought he had to whisper even though whatever magic he’d used on the room was making it feel like they were in their own little sealed bubble, away from the world. “Yeah?”

Leap of faith time. Damon had asked her to tell him to stop, and Bonnie wasn’t in the mood to do that. She was too busy feeling curious at what might happen if she did the opposite. With Damon’s eyes blue as anything on her face, Bonnie said, “I’m not going to tell you to stop.”

Bonnie had sort of expected that the words would result in a flurry of movement on Damon’s part, but if anything he only became more still in front of her. He’d said he wanted to kiss her but it was like Damon was afraid to do it… or like he needed her to initiate it. Like it had to be her decision. If it weren’t for his hands, big on her bare legs, Bonnie thought the lightness that was filling her body might just make her drift right up to the ceiling.

If Damon wanted her to take some initiative right now, Bonnie was happy to indulge him. Maybe he just didn’t know where to begin, now that she had told him she wasn’t going to tell him to stop? The thought made Bonnie laugh. She leant forward until their faces were barely an inch apart and tried to ignore the rabbiting of her heartbeat and the blood rushing past her ears.

“Bon -”

No, she was committed now. He wasn’t allowed to chicken out. Or he was, but Bonnie desperately hoped that he wouldn’t. “Kiss me, Damon.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, two, and then Damon reached up to curve one hand around the back of Bonnie’s neck. She could _feel it,_ which only reassured her a little that this wasn’t a dream. His hand was warm, and big, and definitely making Bonnie feel more tethered to the moment. Trying to look him in the eyes only strained her own, their faces were so close, so Bonnie just looked at his mouth, waiting. Wanting. 

Damon’s breath touched her mouth when he said, “Sorry for making you wait.”

It felt like she’d stuck her fingers in a power socket. Bonnie wasn’t sure if he meant just now when he’d frozen in place or much longer, and frankly she didn’t care. Bonnie shifted forward slightly more and so did Damon, until they were as close to kissing as they could possibly be without actively doing it. She didn’t know how much longer she could wait and then she didn’t have to find out because Damon’s mouth was pressing into hers, soft and wet and perfect.

The intensity of the feeling that washed through her as soon as their lips touched was enough to make Bonnie gasp and then it was even _better_ because Damon took that as permission to lick into her mouth and god, Bonnie hadn't known that kissing could be like this. Enzo had kissed her the same way and she loved it, wanted more of it. Never wanted to _stop_ doing it. It was all consuming, she knew that much. Like she was being lit up from within and could feel it everywhere, not just where they were touching. 

That being said, leaning over Damon wasn’t doing great things for her back. It probably wasn’t easy on his neck either, vampire or not. And then she must have licked into Damon’s mouth in a particular way or she was just noticing something that had been there the whole time; whichever it was, Bonnie broke the kiss. 

Damon immediately tried to follow her and Bonnie put her hand against the front of his throat without thinking about it and had the singular pleasure of watching Damon’s mouth drop open and his pupils get even larger.

Fucking hell. Bonnie wasn’t ready for this, was she? It didn’t matter right then because she had to ask, had to know. “Why do you taste like Enzo?”

Damon’s cheeks darkened and Bonnie’s eyes felt like they were glued to his face. Was he _embarrassed?_ The hand he had left on the back of her neck dropped to her leg, squeezing. Bonnie shifted in place - into the pressure - and waited him out. 

“Ran into him outside,” and Damon shifted up higher on his knees, forcing Bonnie to move away from him. It didn’t occur to her to move her hand from his throat so she didn't and he pushed against the hold until he was close enough to kiss her; Bonnie let him because there was no way she wasn’t going to, not anymore. Damon’s hands shifted to curl underneath her legs and he broke the kiss for just long enough to say, “he assaulted me.”

Bonnie snorted and felt the grin Damon pressed into the skin of her cheek; it was the type of feeling that made Bonnie’s skin feel too tight. “He assaulted you? What, with his _mouth?_ ”

“Mhm,” got pressed against her lips and Bonnie sucked in a sharp breath when Damon lifted her, moving her onto her bed properly. When he let go of her entirely and moved away she didn’t complain because Damon was stripping off his suit jacket and unbuttoning his shirt; her heart was pounding for an entirely different reason now. “He wanted to show me something.”

Damon toed off his shoes and Bonnie felt like she was vibrating with anticipation and then she wanted to laugh because Enzo had been right. Anticipation _was_ half the fun. While that was true, she wasn’t complaining that Damon was already shirtless and working on his belt, the muscles of his arms and torso rippling. Curiosity got the better of her, though. “What did he want to show you?”

The buckle of Damon’s belt hit the floor with a _thunk_ and his pants followed shortly after, leaving him standing in front of her in just his briefs. This was really happening, then. _Or_ her dream was about to get a whole lot more graphic. Bonnie reached out for him and Damon came within touching distance straight away, climbing onto the bed to lean over her. 

With his mouth hovering above hers, barely an inch away, Damon said, “How you taste.”

There was a moment of pure white noise in Bonnie’s head, and then she realized what Damon was saying. Enzo had never brushed his teeth back at Lexi’s apartment. So not only would he have tasted like Bonnie’s mouth, he would have tasted like… god, Bonnie couldn’t even think it without all of the blood in her body rushing south all at once. “ _Fuck,_ D,” and then there wasn’t anything left to do but yank Damon bodily against her so that she could assault him with a kiss of her own. 

Damon groaned into her mouth and kissed her even deeper than before and Bonnie parted her legs so he could settle between them, the press of what could only be his hard dick against her making her whine and arch against him. 

Reality crashed unpleasantly into Bonnie: it was very possible that they might have skipped a step or two, here. They should be talking about what happened, probably, before they made any rash decisions. Bonnie and Jeremy had only broken up yesterday and a handful of hours ago Damon had been desperate to get back together with Elena, hadn’t he? Was Bonnie about to let herself be his rebound? The thought was enough to have her going slack against him, unresponsive to the kisses he was pressing into her mouth; Damon just rerouted and started kissing her jaw, her neck.

Bonnie knew that it would feel good to give in. To keep kissing Damon and do whatever else they might want to. But if she gave that to Damon and he took it without any intention of doing it again, or without it meaning anything beyond fucking her… Bonnie couldn’t do it. She shoved at Damon’s shoulders and he moved back, concern obvious in his pinched eyebrows and soft eyes.

“What’s wrong? If you want to stop we can.”

Like he wanted to illustrate his point Damon pulled himself away from her, so that he was propped up above her body on his elbows. Bonnie had to bite her tongue against the urge to say _no, come back, stay here forever_. They really needed to talk about this, whether it was uncomfortable or not. There were lots of things that Bonnie could say. She could ask Damon a broad question, like _what are we doing?_ Or she could say something that might jolt him back into himself - and away from her - like _what happened to loving Elena?_

In the end, Bonnie said the thing that felt most honest. The thing that was most exposing; she’d be showing Damon exactly where to stab. “I don’t want to be your rebound, Damon.”

The shock on Damon’s face threw her. Was it so weird, for Bonnie to assume that was what this was? Their emotions were high. Damon was hurt, probably, and seeking comfort from a familiar source. He might have said he wanted to kiss her but there was a chance that he didn’t assign the same meaning to the action as she did. Then Damon laughed and shifted so he could twirl a strand of her hair around one of his fingers. 

Bonnie felt like she was missing something. “Damon -”

“You think this is a rebound?” Saying yes felt redundant, so Bonnie just moved her head in an approximation of a nod. Damon laughed again and Bonnie didn’t know how to feel; she was frozen in place, a rabbit caught in a trap. Her confusion only magnified itself when Damon dropped his weight back down onto her, his mouth grazing her jaw. “One, Enzo would kill me. In fact, he practically _promised._ ”

Pure heat rolled through Bonnie. They’d talk about this? About _her_? Damon was making it sound like Enzo had given him the shovel talk: treat her right or it’s lights out for you. Bonnie blinked up the ceiling, feeling disconnected from her body as Damon kissed the hinge of her jaw, feather light. “And two?”

Damon moved so that their mouths were almost brushing and it was a struggle not to just kiss him right then. Just because he’d implied that this wasn’t a rebound - on pain of death - didn’t mean that Bonnie was convinced. She stayed very still. “This is two.” When Damon kissed her, Bonnie thought he meant that: the kiss was his second point. As far as moves went it was pretty lame, if that was the case. She kissed him back anyway, letting him tilt her head to get a better angle. 

And then she felt it. Without her noticing, Damon had stopped holding up the wall in his head that stopped her from feeling his emotions and they crashed into her with all of the force of a tidal wave, starting with a happiness so rich that it was almost bordering on euphoria. After that came disbelief like Damon couldn’t believe this was happening, followed by an arousal that was so wide and vast that Bonnie could swim in it like the ocean. But louder than all of that, like a chorus of song over the top of everything else, was something far warmer and more mercurial than anything Bonnie had felt over their connection before. 

It felt like love. 

So much of it that Bonnie gasped into Damon’s mouth, her hands finding their place in his hair to cradle just as much as they tugged. Damon pressed even more of his weight against her, kissing her open-mouthed and possessive and _wanting._ Practically devouring. Now Bonnie was feeling disbelief of her own, at war with the joy bubbling up within her. Or maybe it was more accurate to say that her self-esteem was at war with her joy. It was hard to believe that Damon felt that way about her, but a voice that sounded a lot like Enzo’s was telling her that Damon couldn’t doctor his emotions. 

In his determination to prove that this wasn’t just a rebound fuck, Damon had wholly exposed himself to Bonnie. After all, he had no way of knowing that she felt the same way without her saying so. Not when her own mental wall was still up. And if she was being honest with herself, regardless of her feelings for him, Bonnie didn’t know if she was ready to say the words yet. Not when there was so much still up in the air; not when their previous relationships had so recently ended. 

When Damon broke the kiss to look at her, Bonnie could only imagine what her face was doing. All she knew was that she was smiling and maybe trying not to cry. If anything Damon’s expression only got softer as he put his mental wall back up; it was actually a relief, after the emotional barrage Bonnie had just experienced. “Bonnie Bennett, you’re the complete opposite of a rebound.”

Even if Bonnie wasn’t ready to say it, she felt it: she loved him. Loved him enough to use her grip on his hair to guide his face back to hers, overcome with satisfaction when Damon immediately opened his mouth to kiss her again. She definitely loved him enough to tighten her knees around his hips so that she could roll him onto his back, grinning with his indignant squawk at the maneuver turned into a groan when Bonnie settled in his lap. She hadn’t bothered putting on underwear when she’d gotten changed into the gray shorts she was wearing - she’d been planning on sleeping, after all, not making out with a vampire - and Bonnie was happy for the oversight now; there were only two layers of fabric separating her from Damon’s dick.

When Damon’s hands settled on her thighs Bonnie couldn’t help but rock against him, just a little, and she watched with something like fascination as Damon swore colorfully and tipped his head back against her pillow. Her emotions might be all over the place but Bonnie knew one thing for sure: she was really, really turned on right now. So much of the last week and a half had been spent at the top of a very tall precipice and now Bonnie felt like she and Damon were only one good push from tumbling over. 

Maybe he’d expected her to move against him again because Damon opened his eyes to look at her, only his gaze immediately dropped to between Bonnie’s legs. She didn’t even have time to blush or look to see what he was looking at before she felt Damon’s thumb grazing the edge of Enzo’s bite mark, exposed by her shorts riding up.

“I knew it.”

It was nearly impossible to think with Damon’s thumb rubbing back and forth over the tender skin; Bonnie’s eyes were losing focus and she rocked down against him, aware that she was getting wet just from that small touch. Words, Bonnie. Words. “You knew what?”

Another press of his thumb, harder this time, made the mark bleed; the smell of it hit Bonnie’s nose at the same time as Damon’s undereyes became dark and spidered with veins. Damon brought his thumb to his lips and sucked it into his mouth, his eyes closing at the taste of her blood. Lust lanced through her and soon it was going to be obvious just how wet this entire interaction was making her, the fabric of her shorts clinging. When he finally answered her as his hand fell back to her thigh, Damon’s voice was low. Low enough that Bonnie felt like it was making her bones vibrate. “I saw it, when he bit you.”

Bonnie knew that her mouth was hanging open but she couldn’t remember how to close it. Damon couldn’t mean… could he? When Enzo had bitten her and pulled away to admire his handiwork, what Bonnie had seen had been graphic to say the least, and she’d _been there._ The implication that Damon had seen it as well? Embarrassment was bleeding into her arousal. “What… what did you see.”

Damon looked past Bonnie, his eyes unfocused like he was actively remembering. After a moment he looked back at her, his eyes even darker. “Well, you weren’t wearing this,” and he tugged at her tank top with a pout and it made Bonnie laugh, her embarrassment already fading away. Then she made a decision. They were going to do this, so she may as well: Bonnie grabbed the bottom of her tank top and pulled it over her head. Damon made a choked noise.

Bonnie could feel her pulse between her legs. Her nipples were tight and she rocked against Damon minutely, desperate to feel him. Damon was staring and Bonnie felt gorgeous, felt beautiful. “Like this?”

“You can’t just… do that, Bon,” but Damon sat up like it was nothing - Bonnie could see his abs, so maybe it wasn’t - and moved his hands to curve around her ribs, thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts. Bonnie’s gasp was swallowed by his mouth as Damon kissed her like he was desperate for it. Bonnie could relate, but she broke the kiss anyway.

“What else did you see?”

With a dramatic huff Damon flopped back onto his back, which had the unintended result of making Bonnie bounce in his lap. The thick line of his dick rubbed against her and even through two layers of fabric Bonnie could feel the heat of. She was _aching,_ needy for it already. Even though she was basically asking for it, Bonnie still jolted forward and whimpered when Damon dragged his thumb across the _definitely_ damp front of her shorts to rest against the bite mark again.

“These weren’t in the way, either.”

And so they found themselves at a stalemate. Taking her top off was one thing, but taking off the only piece of fabric stopping her from being naked? Bonnie didn’t know if she was bold enough. Her internal battle must have been obvious because Damon smiled at her, rubbing his hands on her thighs in a way that was probably meant to soothe. It only made Bonnie feel even _more,_ like she was dialled up to eleven. 

Then Damon said, his voice husky, “Come here.” Bonnie blinked at him. Come where? There wasn’t really anywhere for her to _go._ Before she got the opportunity to ask, Damon’s smile turned into a smirk. He tapped his mouth with a long finger. “Come here, Bon.”

Something told Bonnie he wasn’t asking for a kiss and she moaned, rocking down against him _hard._ She didn’t have to feel ashamed for wanting this because Damon was asking her; she could _feel_ how much he wanted it, his dick twitching beneath her. Still, Bonnie felt uncertain as she lifted herself up onto her knees and shuffled forward. When she felt a burst of warm approval Bonnie realized that Damon had deliberately let the emotion trickle through their connection; it felt like honey on her tongue.

Bonnie was hovering over his chest now, and the embarrassment from before had returned. She wanted it, really fucking badly, but placing herself directly over Damon’s face? Bonnie bit her lip and hesitated, watching Damon watching her. Or not so much _her_ as her thigh. He hadn’t been able to look away from or stop touching the bite mark since he’d first seen it and Bonnie wondered if he was jealous that Enzo had given it to her. Then she forgot about that - and most other things - when Damon’s hands curved around her ass. 

“Don’t be shy, baby.” 

And Damon lifted her up and over his face, letting go when he was happy with her position. Bonnie scrambled to plant her knees beside his head and only just managed to catch herself with a hand on the headboard. “Jesus, Damon, I could have knocked you out!”

Bonnie’s ears were still ringing at hearing him call her ‘baby’ again. Enzo was liberal with endearments and Bonnie loved it, but Damon used her nickname more often. It meant that a pet name from him felt like a prize. Then Damon grazed his mouth over the bite mark on her thigh and Bonnie’s eyes shot down to him. The whites of his eyes were an inky red, which only made the blue of his irises seem even more otherworldly. Just like before the skin underneath his eyes was being bisected by spidering veins, but now Damon had his fangs out. 

He was quite possibly the most gorgeous thing Bonnie had ever seen.

A wet, open-mouthed kiss got sucked into the skin between the marks left behind by Enzo’s fangs and Bonnie shuddered, concentrating hard on hovering above Damon’s face when all she wanted to do was. Well. Bonnie just thought there were better things Damon could be doing with his mouth.

“Why didn’t it heal?”

The question snapped her brain back on, almost like a switch literally being flipped in her head. Damon was still looking up at her even as he pressed kisses around the bite and Bonnie watched him, aware that he’d be able to see _and_ smell how much this was doing it for her. Her heart was hammering but she wasn’t ashamed of this. “I didn’t want it to.”

It was fascinating to watch Damon’s pupils blow even wider even as his face was mostly monstrous, for a definition of _monstrous._ Damon grazed his fangs over Enzo’s bite mark before he suddenly touched Bonnie’s other thigh, nudging it with his hand so Bonnie was forced to spread her legs more. The fabric of her shorts was tight to her; for all Damon would be able to see, she may as well not be wearing them. When Damon grazed his fangs over her thigh this time, Bonnie whined and tightened her hands on the headboard, the wood groaning. 

“Can I?” Damon spoke the words into her skin and Bonnie felt like she was going to fly apart any second now.

Bonnie honestly didn’t care what he was asking. All she knew was that she wanted it, whatever it was. “ _Please._ ”

Damon gripped her thigh tighter and looked at her, his eyes wide and wondering. He took her at her word - he’d be able to hear the desperation in her voice, no doubt - and turned his head, sinking his fangs into her skin barely a second later. Bonnie couldn’t contain her shout. The headboard creaked warningly as she clenched her hands, finally allowing herself to press against Damon's mouth.

It felt fucking _amazing,_ just like it had when Enzo had bitten her. Damon was drinking deeply, his eyes closed so that his dark lashes fanned across his skin. Bonnie had thought he looked like an angel before and he _did,_ only now he looked wicked, too. After what felt like an eternity and not nearly long enough at the same time, Damon drew back to look at the mark he’d left behind. The noise he let out could only be described as a contented purr and Bonnie needed him, she needed him _right now._

“Damon, please, I need -”

Damon kissed her thigh softly, his lips lingering against her skin. His face was back to normal and his eyes on her were gentle even as Bonnie could tell how aroused he was; she was flattered, honestly. “I know, baby. I’ve got you.” And Bonnie believed him, because he did. She trusted Damon to know what she needed and she also trusted him to give it to her. His thumbs rubbed underneath her shorts and when he drew her down towards his mouth, Bonnie went. 

The first press of his mouth through the fabric to where she was already throbbing had Bonnie grinding against his face before she’d even thought the motion through and she was about to apologize, to move away, when Damon made a hungry noise against her and only held her closer. Then all she could do was groan. “ _Fuck -_ ”

Damon pulled away from her, panting. “Off, off, take them off,” and Bonnie shifted up onto her knees, intending to stand up and do just that, only there wasn’t any fabric constricting her movements. Bonnie froze. Had he just _magicked her shorts away?_ All it took was one incredulous glance down to confirm that yes, Damon had. Bonnie was completely naked, her pussy inches from his face, and Damon looked like he had stars in his eyes. 

“Forget everything I’ve ever said. I _love_ magic.” 

A slightly manic laugh bubbled its way out of Bonnie only to get cut short when Damon immediately pulled her down against his mouth so that he could lick into her, absolutely no preamble at all. Bonnie desperately hoped that the spell he had put on the room was holding because she practically _screamed,_ one hand dropping from the headboard to tangle in Damon’s hair to hold him close. He moaned against her and the vibration of it made Bonnie twitch down against his mouth, her eyes almost crossing with how good it felt. 

Damon’s hands were like clamps around her thighs, like there was a reality in which Bonnie would be trying to move away from him, away from his _seriously perfect_ mouth. If anything she was only trying not to suffocate him, rocking against his mouth as he fucked her with his tongue. When Bonnie looked down at him his eyes were closed, not in concentration but in _bliss._ If Bonnie was enjoying herself right now, Damon looked like he was enjoying himself just as much.

He shifted his grip on her and Bonnie mewled because now his thumbs were pressed into her inner thighs, right against the twin bite marks. It made them ache in the best way and Bonnie clenched her eyes shut and gripped the headboard tighter, trying not to tear Damon’s hair out at the same time as she held him even closer to her, not that he was trying to go anywhere. 

When the headboard knocked into the wall Bonnie’s eyes burst open because that rocking wasn’t coming from her. It was a struggle to keep her eyes open when Damon was licking into her like she was his last meal but Bonnie looked over her shoulder to confirm that yes, Damon was literally fucking up against nothing right now. Like just eating her out was enough to get him there too. She felt feverish with arousal, but also fascinated in a way that she was enjoying; Bonnie tightened her hand in his hair and Damon moaned against her again, shifting so he could suck on her clit. Sparks zipped through Bonnie’s body and she swore, throwing her head back as pleasure rolled through her. 

“That’s so good, D,” and maybe she hadn’t meant to say it out loud but it made Damon moan _deeper_ , so that Bonnie felt like she could feel it in _her_ throat. It was like being told that he was doing well was doing it for him and for some reason that made Bonnie run even hotter, made her rut down against his mouth even harder. The surreality of the situation wasn’t lost on Bonnie. If you’d told her she’d be getting the best head of her life from two vampires she barely tolerated two weeks ago _on the same day,_ she would have never believed it.

_You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen._

That made Bonnie’s eyes snap down to Damon pretty quick. Her mouth was hanging open as she panted, rolling her hips against his mouth, and Damon was looking up at her with his bright blue eyes almost glazed over in pleasure. Bonnie didn’t think he’d stopped to _breathe._ She gentled her grip in his hair to card her fingers through the strands and Damon’s eyes on her softened; how he managed to look fucking besotted with his mouth buried in her, Bonnie didn’t know. 

Maybe it was the fact that she felt foggy with the need to come, but Bonnie found herself saying, “Thank you, baby.”

Damon practically purred against her, which made her feel fucking _insane_. Fine tremors were making her thighs shake and Damon’s thumbs were rubbing against the tender bite marks like he loved them just as much as she did. Now that Bonnie had looked at him she couldn’t look away, which doubled the intensity of the feeling when Damon sucked sharply on her clit. The sound of splintering wood was lost within the shout she couldn’t contain and Bonnie pressed herself tight to his mouth, waves of pleasure almost rendering her deaf _and_ blind as she passed the point of no return.

Just when she thought it couldn’t possibly get any better - Enzo and Damon were going to ruin her for sex with other people forever, she knew that much already - Damon didn’t let up at all even as she felt herself getting impossibly wetter against his mouth. He was back to fucking her with his tongue, the destroyed headboard banging into the wall with regularity now, and Bonnie found herself hurtling into another orgasm before her first one had even really ended.

In a disconnected sort of way, she thought that wood splinters raining down on them could end badly considering their supernatural proclivities. Hopefully the Universe would be on her side and Damon wouldn’t get skewered in the eye or something. Then, as she continued to float through time and space, Bonnie wondered how much better the sex would be if she and Damon had their mental walls down. What feeling Damon’s emotions, and him hearing her thoughts, could do for the whole experience. But god, if the sex was any better Bonnie was worried she might genuinely never be able to do anything else: she’d just spend eternity right here, sitting on Damon’s face. 

Which, actually, served to bring her back to the world around her, because Damon had stopped mouthing at her and she was concerned that he really _couldn’t_ breathe, after all. What a way to go. 

Bonnie still had to yank herself out of his grip whether he was suffocating or not, his hands tight on her thighs even still. She didn’t go far, sitting on his chest because he could take the weight and she was beyond caring about nudity. Damon was flushed right down his neck and the state of his face made Bonnie want to blush, or to moan, because it was shiny - _slick_ \- with how wet she’d been. How wet he’d made her, really. His mouth was puffy and his eyes were closed; for all intents and purposes, Damon looked about as happy as she’d ever seen him. 

Bonnie couldn’t help herself. She shuffled further down his body so she wouldn’t break her back and then bent over to kiss him; Damon made a startled noise and opened to her, his hands falling to her waist to grip tight as she licked into his mouth. He tasted like her, obviously, and it was making Bonnie shift against the muscle of his stomach. When she grabbed his jaw and tilted his head to get a better angle Damon moaned, noisy with it and apparently unbothered. She grinned and pulled away to bite at his lip. 

“You’re really good at that.” Even though she’d just been kissing him, Bonnie was pretty sure he’d know what she was really referring to. The self-satisfied smirk that took over his face told Bonnie that he did.

“Well, I’ve had a lot of practice.” 

No shit. But there was practice, and then there was _enjoying it._ The way Damon had been rolling his hips like he was fucking her had told Bonnie all she needed to know: Damon was a pleaser, and getting someone off got _him_ off. He wouldn’t hear any complaints from her in that regard, but Bonnie was a pleaser too. She pressed a kiss to his neck, open-mouthed, and Damon tilted his head to the side to let her. Bonnie rolled off of him slightly and walked her fingers down his abs, toying with the waistband of his briefs. 

Then the smell of come hit her nose, and she couldn’t get between his legs fast enough. Damon shot up onto his elbows and Bonnie barely noticed his blush because her eyes were laser focused on the way the material of his briefs was clinging to him, pearly white come seeping out in places. He’d really come just from eating her out and it was like Bonnie hadn’t just had the orgasm to end all orgasms because she was ready to go all over again, nearly desperate for it. She flicked her eyes up to Damon's face; he was looking at her like he didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or _really_ turned on.

“You’re not… you don’t mind?”

To hear Damon sound uncertain was weird enough that Bonnie knew she had to reassure him that she was the polar opposite of turned off right now. She shook her head and pressed a kiss to his stomach, tugging on his waistband pointedly. Damon’s hips bucked. It felt ridiculous to ask, considering, but: “Can I take these off?”

Damon was nodding almost before she’d finished asking, already lifting his hips to help her out. Bonnie’s pulse was pounding in her ears and between her legs and she hadn’t known if she was going to _really_ fuck him but now she knew that she definitely was, provided Damon wanted that. But first, Bonnie had different priorities. Namely, staring at Damon’s come-covered dick when she finally threw his briefs over her shoulder. He was still most of the way hard, and Bonnie guessed that his dick wouldn’t strain her jaw as much as Enzo’s; he wasn’t as thick, but he was longer, the head of his dick slick and rosy pink. 

Both of them were bigger than Jeremy, which seemed rude to think. Bonnie couldn’t help it though, because the thought excited her. Being fucked by them? She was really looking forward to it. Bonnie’s pussy ached at the thought of just sitting on Damon's dick. He’d let her, no doubt. Would probably make it the best fuck of her life. And she wanted it - was going to have it soon, if she had anything to say about it - but her mouth was also watering, and she wanted to show off a little. Enzo, for all the experience he probably had, had seemed impressed and Bonnie wanted to see if Damon would be, too.

So that’s why she reached out to curl her hand around the base of his dick, squeezing and stroking upwards, using his own come as lube. Damon groaned and did exactly what she’d wanted him to: he closed his eyes and tipped his head back.

Which gave Bonnie the perfect opportunity to lean forward and swallow the majority of his dick down in one go, her eyes sliding shut at the taste of him; clean skin mixed with slightly bitter come. It was enough to make her moan, her hips shifting back against nothing, and Damon produced a noise that could best be described as a strangled shout as he tried to fuck his hips up. He couldn’t get very far because Bonnie’s arm was an iron band across his stomach and her vampire strength was out in full force, but he got points for effort. She didn’t have much of a gag reflex to speak of, but Damon could stand to be taught some manners while she got acquainted. 

“Fuck, Bonnie -” and Damon had to stop to pant, apparently. Bonnie opened her eyes and looked up at him to find him staring down at her, his mouth hanging open and his hair wild about his face like he’d been tugging on it. When she made eye contact with him he swore again, his abs bunching beneath her arm. Heat was rolling through her in a continuous wave; _need_ and _want_ that she couldn’t ignore. She bobbed her head and swallowed around him a second time, breathing through her nose. Damon panted louder, hitching out a moan. “Fucking hell Bonnie, you’re going to kill me.”

Bonnie slowly slid her way back up his dick until only the spongy head was in her mouth. She licked across it and Damon’s dick jerked in her hand, precome welling up at the tip. Bonnie chased it, sucking, and Damon swore even louder. She took pity on him and pulled away properly. “Good thing you’re already dead then, isn’t it?”

Damon laughed and he sounded _delighted._ Bonnie didn’t need access to his emotions to pick up on that much. She grinned and swallowed him back down, setting a rhythm that had Damon choking on his laughter so he could clench his hands in the bedsheets and moan instead, thighs tensing like he was desperate to thrust upwards. He didn’t though, like he was trying to be good. If he was anything like Enzo, Damon would be able to come again. And again, and _again_. 

Bonnie was beginning to think she’d been missing out, by not having sex with vampires sooner. There were definitely perks.

After a while, all Bonnie could taste was precome. Damon was panting and making soft noises that were driving her wild with every passing minute; he had to be close and it only made Bonnie double down, bobbing her head faster and working her hand around him at the same time, the noise of it slick and dirty. She hadn’t really been planning on using all of her party tricks in one go, but she felt daring. _Greedy._ Bonnie took her hand away from Damon’s dick and sunk down even further, until the entire length of him was in her mouth. In her throat, really. When Bonnie swallowed around him, her eyes watering, Damon shouted like he’d been shot. 

Bonnie pulled back just in time to catch the first pulse of his come on her tongue, her hand back on his dick so she could jerk him off at the same time. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she was so wet she thought her thighs must be glistening with it; she felt open and empty and a little like she was never going to stop _wanting_. 

Damon came for what felt like ages and Bonnie just kept on swallowing around him, humming at the taste as his dick jerked in her mouth. Once he was finally finished Bonnie gently sucked against the head of his dick one last time and the fucking _whimper_ Damon let out made her feel like she was floating; she pressed a kiss to his dick and then she rested her chin on his hip, feeling more content that she had in a while. Damon’s hand landed clumsily on her head and he patted at her hair as he panted up at the ceiling.

Were there medals, for winding a vampire during sex? Bonnie felt like she deserved one. Content to just watch him and wait - she was nowhere near done with him, not yet - Bonnie let herself settle down a little. Damon was blinking up at the ceiling and combing his fingers through her hair and Bonnie turned her head to press a kiss to his palm, hoping that he would be able to feel her smile. 

Then Damon asked, his grin audible, “Where did you learn how to do _that?_ ” 

Bonnie snorted out a laugh and pressed another kiss to his skin, this time over his hip bone. She crawled over him and pressed her body to his, planting a kiss on his chest. Another got pressed to his neck, then his jaw, before she finally nosed at his mouth. She knew some guys got weird about tasting their own come but Damon was already tilting his head to drag his lips against hers, groaning when she kissed him properly. Damon curled his tongue around hers and put his hands low on her back like he thought she might try to move away from him otherwise; like he didn’t know how much Bonnie loved being touched by him. Held by him.

 _Loved_ by him. It felt like a lot, more than a lot, because Bonnie felt it back. The love. And that terrified her, because when had anything ever worked out the way that they wanted? Nothing in their lives had ever been smooth sailing. It’s why she felt the need to smile against his skin and make a joke.

“‘Little’ Gilbert? Yeah, he’s not so little.”

The noise Damon made could only be described as ‘pure disgust’. “Gross, Bonnie! Don’t make me think about Jeremy’s dick!” 

He shoved playfully at her and Bonnie let herself be pushed onto her back as she cackled, happy when Damon immediately covered her body with his own. Being pressed against each other with nothing to separate them? Yeah, Bonnie had thought about this exact scenario more than once. Damon kissed her neck and when one of his hands started to skip down her side Bonnie shifted against him, her legs parting automatically to grant him all of the access he might want. She might not be done with Damon, but it didn’t seem like he was ready to be finished with her either. 

Any disgust he might have felt seemed to be quickly forgotten as Damon found her mouth again, kissing her deep and long. Bonnie thought that he’d move right into fingering her - she wouldn’t have protested - but instead he pressed against the bite marks on her thighs, the touch lingering. Bonnie gasped into his mouth and pressed down into the pressure.

Damon smiled against her mouth and then finally - finally! - he dragged his fingers through the wetness of her, rubbing her own slick against her clit. Bonnie shuddered and bit at his mouth, feeling ravenous all of the sudden. When she hitched her hips against his hand he rubbed harder and Bonnie felt overwhelmed by sensation. She tangled her hand in his hair again and kissed him as he toyed with her, skating close to where she already felt open for him before he moved away again.

Frustration welled up in Bonnie and she pulled away from his mouth, panting out breaths she didn’t need anymore as he circled her clit once, twice. “Damon, if you don’t -”

He kissed her neck and dragged his fingers downwards again, sinking two of them into her like it was nothing. Blunt human teeth nipped at her neck and Bonnie thought that she could hear colors, maybe. Then Damon asked, “Did you let Enzo fuck you?”

 _Fucking hell._ Damon wasn’t playing games here. It was the first time they’d brought up the fact that Bonnie had been having sex with Enzo barely two hours ago; Damon casually mentioning that he’d made out with Enzo to chase the taste of her didn’t really count. Damon curled his fingers and rubbed against the spot inside of her that made Bonnie’s spine bow and then he just _kept his fingers there,_ so that Bonnie could only stare unseeingly up at the ceiling as she twitched against him. 

Damon kissed her neck again, gentle and completely at odds with what he was doing to her. “Well?”

Bonnie frantically shook her head and Damon let her feel the frisson of possessiveness that rolled through him immediately after. It was confusing, because obviously Damon wasn’t jealous that Enzo had technically had sex with her first. Bonnie turned her head, seeking out his mouth, and Damon indulged her with a kiss and another finger right where she wanted it. He spread the three digits wide inside of her and Bonnie was going to _die,_ she really was.

“Why not?” Damon took his fingers away and ran her own wetness along the bite marks, which was on a whole other level of erotic that Bonnie didn’t even know how to deal with right now. Then he just watched her, leaning down to press the occasional kiss against whatever skin he could find.

God, was he going to make her say it? Bonnie was burning up inside, lust mixed with embarrassment that wasn’t _really_ embarrassment. She hadn’t needed to explain to Enzo why she didn’t want to fuck him just yet because he hadn’t even _asked;_ Enzo had just known. If Enzo didn’t think it was weird… Bonnie hoped that Damon wouldn’t either.

Bonnie pressed herself closer to him, not that there was really a gap between them to start with. They were touching almost as much as they possibly could be. “Wanted you, first.”

The _first_ felt necessary. She loved Damon. There was no denying it even if she wasn’t ready to say it, but she needed him to know that she felt something for Enzo too. That being with Damon and being with Enzo aren't mutually exclusive concepts to her. They coexisted and it was selfish of her and she didn’t understand it, but it was what it was. Bonnie felt beyond denying herself what she wanted, and if she wanted both of them, then so be it.

It was obvious that the words hit Damon somewhere deep. He pulled away from the kisses he’d been laying across her neck to look at her face, his blue eyes almost impossibly wide. Hopeful, and hungry. Bonnie couldn’t ignore the hunger there. Damon had revealed a lot but Bonnie was playing her cards closer to her chest and part of her regretted that now, watching Damon process the knowledge that she wanted him. That she wanted him like _that,_ and she wanted it with him first. 

Bonnie reached out to cup his jaw and Damon immediately closed his eyes, pressing into the touch like a cat. Her heart ached for him. Was it possible to feel longing, to feel yearning, for someone you were actively with? If it was, Bonnie felt it. She tugged him down and he let her, exhaling out a soft noise when she kissed the thin skin of his eyelids. His nose, his cheeks, the soft plushness of his mouth. Damon was almost quivering against her and Bonnie loved him. She loved him so fucking much.

“I want you, D.”

When his eyes finally opened it was like seeing the sun for the first time after a long period of rain. His smile was slow to unfurl but it was radiant enough that Bonnie smiled helplessly back at him, the tightness in her chest unraveling in tandem. She couldn’t make herself say the words but it looked like Damon understood anyway. The kiss he pressed into her mouth felt more possessive, more _claiming_ than before. The need that had been simmering underneath her skin for what felt like forever was building into a crescendo and she needed him to fuck her, she needed it right now -

“It’s okay, baby, I’ll give it to you.”

There was a chance that Bonnie was so overwhelmingly turned on and full of feeling that she was losing her grip on her mental wall - how much had he heard, exactly? - but if it got her Damon’s fingers fucking back inside as he covered her body with his own properly, Bonnie wasn’t in the mood to care. He was fucking her with his fingers now, the sound of it almost jarringly loud in the spelled quietness of the room, but Bonnie didn’t care about that either. Not when it felt so good, and certainly not when it meant he was getting her ready for him.

After what felt like an eternity Damon took his fingers away and Bonnie felt empty, felt desperate. Damon was frozen between her legs and his dick was a hard line rubbing against her inner thigh and why wasn’t he fucking her already? Like he had heard the thought - and maybe he had, considering - Damon took himself in hand and rubbed the head of his dick against her, across but not _in._

Bonnie was going to fucking kill him. Something in her expression must have said as much because Damon laughed, somewhat breathlessly, and kissed her open mouth for a moment before he pulled back. “Can I?”

Was it rude to roll her eyes? Bonnie wasn’t exactly being subtle here. “You have to ask?”

Damon grinned and he didn't look like an angel anymore. He looked like the _devil_ , all dark hair and bright blue eyes and roguish smirk. She sort of wanted to punch him, even when he rubbed his dick through the wetness of her folds again. “Can I, without a condom?”

Oh. Bonnie hadn’t even thought of that, which only served to show how long it had been since she’d actually had penetrative sex with someone; even before the Prison World, she and Jeremy hadn’t exactly been seeing each other naked regularly. But when they _had_ been sleeping together, they’d been doing it bare. Bonnie was good about taking the pill and she liked it better that way, the closeness of it. The _messiness_ of it. Being able to feel it as Jeremy came inside. 

Damon made a noise like he was choking on air and she refocused on him to see that he was watching her with impossibly dark eyes, his mouth hanging open. Like she'd just punched him in the gut. And then Bonnie was blushing, because he’d heard all of that, hadn’t he? 

“Yeah, Bonnie. I fucking heard that.”

Well. There was nothing she could do about that now, and Damon didn’t look like he was grossed out. But he still wasn’t moving, and Bonnie was past being polite. Or modest, for that matter: she parted her legs even more and hitched one knee up, putting herself on display. She reached above her head to curl her hands around the few slats of the headboard that were still structurally sound and shifted down against the head of Damon’s dick, where he was still holding it against her. Damon swore and his dick jerked in his grip and Bonnie wanted it inside of her right the fuck now. 

“Don’t make me fuck myself, D.”

“Fucking hell. I _knew_ this was going to be good.”

Bonnie laughed to know that he’d thought about this before, and then Damon was _finally_ sinking inside of her, slow and steady and unavoidable. Bonnie felt every inch, shifting against him, whimpering when he was all of the way in. _Okay._ He was big, there was no getting around that. Damon pressed his face into her neck and laughed as Bonnie’s hand found its place in his hair, tugging as she let herself adjust. Damon wasn’t trying to move and she loved him, she loved him, she loved him.

Damon shuddered against her and Bonnie realized that having her mental wall mostly down was the best thing, after all, because he must have heard that, too. The idea of telling him had been terrifying before but now it just felt right, because he wasn’t going to hurt her. Bonnie knew that now. He moaned and pressed himself harder against her, rolling his hips to grind his dick in deep. Bonnie gasped and clenched her knees around his sides, hitching her own hips against his to encourage him to move, to start fucking her properly. Damon shifted so that he could kiss her, biting at her mouth, and this was already so good that Bonnie could barely stand it, which is when Damon pulled out halfway and fucked back inside, hard and deep and _perfect._

“Oh, fuck,” Bonnie tightened her hand in his hair and Damon kissed her and did it again, the same exact amount of pressure that had her shifting up the bed with the force of it. He pulled away from her mouth and his eyes were sparkling. Bonnie grinned at him, aware of every single nerve in her body; they all felt lit up for him. “Do that again.”

And Damon did. 

If he was good at giving head he was ten times better at fucking and Bonnie felt spoiled and ecstatic for it. He effortlessly kept up a rhythm that made her toes curl with every thrust in and whimper every time he pulled out, and it became very quickly obvious to Bonnie that fucking a human was never going to compare to fucking a vampire, not after this. And maybe it was because she was stronger now too, but Damon wasn’t holding back at all with his thrusts. He was fucking her fast and deep and so good that she couldn’t contain the breathy punched out noises that wanted to burst out of her and Damon was moaning just as loud, hitching one of her legs up higher and changing the angle just enough that Bonnie bowed beneath him, clenching her eyes shut tight enough to see stars.

Once he’d found the spot that made Bonnie swear every time he bottomed out Damon fucked into it relentlessly until she was scrabbling at his back, her nails no doubt scouring marks. His hips were pressing into the tender bite marks on her thighs with every thrust and it made it even more perfect; they were panting into each other’s mouths, moving too fast to even attempt kissing properly. 

Damon pulled out until just the head of his dick was holding her open and Bonnie whined, panting. She watched him as he looked down at where they were connected, suddenly wishing that she could see too. Then Damon fucked back inside, slightly harder than his previous thrusts and _yes, right there,_ that’s all it was going to take. Bonnie shouted and clenched helplessly around him, wave after wave of pleasure rolling through her.

The sound of Damon fucking into her was even sloppier now, obscene. Bonnie was twitching, the best kind of over-sensitive; she felt aware of every vein on Damon's dick as he fucked her faster and faster. Damon managed a handful more thrusts before he buried himself deep, his dick jerking as he filled her with warmth. It triggered another sort-of orgasm for Bonnie, her thighs shaking as she clenched her legs even tighter around Damon, like he might try to pull away otherwise. Like he wasn’t pressing reverential kisses to her nipples, her collar bones, her mouth and rolling his hips like he could possibly fuck his come in any deeper. 

That might be a thing for him, though, because at some point one of his arms had ended up beneath her and he was tilting her hips up with a big hand low on her back, like he didn’t want any of his come to leak out. It was the hottest thing that had ever happened to her, probably, and Bonnie wasn’t sure she was ever going to stop twitching around him. Bonnie felt too big for her body, turned on and entirely satiated at the same time. Happiness bordering on euphoria, just like Damon had shown her that he was feeling before. 

Damon sucked on her bottom lip and then bit it lightly. Pressed a kiss to each of her cheeks, the tip of her nose. He buried his face back in her neck and kept on rolling his hips gently, the barest shift of movement that had Bonnie whimpering and flexing her hand in his hair. He wasn’t completely hard anymore but he wasn’t pulling out either and there was no way that Bonnie was going to ask him to, content to stay just like this forever. 

It took a moment to register that the buzz against her neck was Damon talking; Bonnie was distractedly playing with his hair and trying to regain feeling in her extremities. She hadn’t exactly returned to the world yet.

“Remind me why we haven’t done this before?” And it was incredible that Bonnie could laugh at that, because now she knew that this wasn’t a rebound. Damon wasn’t going to fuck her and leave; he wasn’t going to change his mind. The warmth of the love that he’d let her feel before had proven that. 

The question was probably rhetorical, but… “You were in love with Elena, and I was sleeping with her little brother.”

Bonnie didn’t mean it as a test. She wasn’t trying to jolt Damon into remembering that Bonnie wasn’t the girl he should be with, she was just stating the facts: for whatever reason, she and Damon had never considered each other as options before now. Damon _hmm’d_ against her neck and then kissed her there, pretty fucking sweetly considering he had his dick buried inside of her still. He moved so that he could grin down at her, his eyes soft. Loving.

“Then we have a lot of lost time to make up for, don’t we?”

Now wasn’t the time to cry, now wasn’t the time to cry, now wasn’t the time to cry… a tear leaked out anyway and Bonnie was grateful that Damon would probably be able to tell that it was of the happy variety. And he could, because he leaned down to kiss it away. Bonnie nodded and wrapped her arms around Damon, feeling completely overwhelmed. He kissed her and she kissed him back, happier than she could ever remember being.

The best thing was that Damon was right. They might have taken a few detours on their way to finding each other, but now they were here. And they had a lot of time to make up for, and Bonnie couldn’t fucking wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this chapter has been 200k coming! I hope it lives up to expectations, and you don't mind how INSANELY long it is 🤪 Endless thanks to Jo for being the best friend and cheerleader while I worked through this beast 🥺  
> I'd love your feedback, if you've got any! Especially any favourite parts of this chapter you might have!
> 
> And fair warning: I have a fic idea for The Old Guard that just won't quit, so I'll be taking a break from ITEOTW to write that. Hopefully it won't take too long, and some of you will enjoy that fic too! 
> 
> As always, you can follow my twitter [@bonbennetts](https://twitter.com/bonbennetts) and my tumblr is [@bonbennett](https://bonbennett.tumblr.com/)💓


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